Behind These Eyes
by Lady Twi
Summary: AU Harry Potter and his friends seem to have enough on their plate, what with YouKnowWho constantly trying to kill Harry who only wants to be a kid. But what if there was more to them than what it seemed? Told mostly from the point of view of the ones aro
1. Default Chapter

**5****th**** August 1998**

**Dear Star Light. **

**Star Bright. **

**My first Star, who I saw That Night. **

**Just one Summer that let me see your Light,**

**But I will be forever grateful, for that Night…**

**I suck at poems; could hardly compete with your favourite ones, even if they are a bit morbid. Yes, that especially includes Edgar Allen Poe. And you know why.**

**Don't argue.**

**And don't brood over this until I see you tonight for our impromptu date. You shouldn't be able to, anyway. Percy's agreed to help you with any extra work for the Elders, so you can't get out of this.**

**Haven't seen you properly in two months because of those bleeding Death Eaters; any extra assignments you've managed to gain with your temper is not getting in the way.**

**So, don't try to –scare- away Percy, have any –discussions- with the Elders or anyone else and see you tonight at five by the Swinging Pendulum. **

**And don't bite your lip in anger. **

**Just makes you cuter-**

His fingers curled around the parchment. If he hadn't already applied several heavy duty Indestructible Charms it would have worn away by now. Ripped, ink faded and mere dust in his hands.

But it had been the only item to escape his wrath. Everything else has been burned. Scorched beyond recognition and then carried away by the far winds.

This one hadn't. Managed to fall in between the drawer and the small inside space of the desk…

And not discovered again until he had realised…

Maybe it would have been better if he never had. Simply let it only be his own memories to scream, stamp and remind him of his own stupidity without… Without having this letter as well…

Double-edged sword. It would have been taken away from him by his concerned family and friends only they remembered… or at least, they believed he had been worse before.

So, he kept it. Carried it in his pocket when he had to be on the move. Placed under his pillow when he was granted the luxury of his own bed.

Always with him.

Always reminding him…

All of them had dealt with it differently. He needed the letter.

His sister needed the scraps she could find of what They had used to be. Had stitched it all together…

Still too many ghosts haunting their groups.

Still too many past mistakes… killing them slowly.

Night.

Sometimes it was a time to forget. She could fall into dreams of the Better Times and wallow in What Used to Be.

Or else she would be unable to.

Kick the covers off before pulling them back over on her again. Switch from side to side as she holds back her sighs. Though why she would bother as…

He always heard anyway. Waited for undeniable proof before he would call it. She could be completely still, keeping her breaths even as she fought back sobs and he…

His hand would rest on her. A slight squeeze as she tried to regain her composure.

She never knew if he would try to go any further. Sometimes he'd draw her closer to him, try to pull her into his arms so that he could comfort her properly in his bed. Other times, it was only a single touch, left there for a few moments before he would return to his own bed.

She used to venture downstairs, hide herself away in the shadows of the living room after raiding the kitchen. But that only added to the number who would notice her being up.

Bad enough with….

Worse when either of the two did.

Each had their own Darkness to hide from.

Each had their own way of dealing with it.


	2. Chapter 2

_Might need a haircut,_ Fred thought as he ran a hand through his dishevelled red hair. _Wonder if Bill is up to it before he leaves?_

Jumping the last few steps, Fred landed with a thump on the ground floor. As the entire house shook, Fred grinned at the various members of his family who stared at him as he entered the kitchen.

_Won't say a word though,_ he thought, _they do secretly like the fact that I make their stays here interesting_

Not that they would ever admit it, but Fred could tell that none of them really minded. It was only because mum made such a big fuss over the smallest things that they ever said that they didn't like the entire escapade, as Percy once described it.

And with the way the day was going, today was going to be full of such events.

Bill and Charlie seemed to have already guessed that, as both of them were fighting back grins Fred noticed as he weaved his way through the crowd of Weasleys. Percy was even going as far as to glare at him, though the entire act was ruined by the fact that his spoon was half way up to his mouth.

Mum though, gave him the ultimate show of disapproval, by clucking her tongue as Percy glanced at her before turning back to his bowl of cereal before him.

She even added to it.

'Fred,' his mum said, 'how many times have I told you to not jump the last few steps to make the entire house shake?'

_Ah,_ he thought, so _I do have the kind of power. I thought so_

He could feel a grin tugging at his lips, a sure give away about what he was thinking and something that could get him in trouble. Though no one was looking, everyone had their attention back on their breakfast, except for his twin. George gave him a wink.

_Exactly,_ Fred thought, as he moved over to mum and tapped her on the shoulder.

Giving him a glare, mum piled a few pieces of bacon onto his plate.

'Mum, you can't disintegrate the house by skipping steps,' said Fred as Charlie gave a slight shake of his head.

Oh, don't pretend. You were the one who started it in the first place. Not that you would ever admit to that either, but don't think we have forgotten that.

And it might be nice to prove that to you, again by another reminder.

'Now, potions on the other hand…..' Fred said, feeling a grin split over his face

He knew it, Charlie was blanching and Bill was chuckling behind his hand. Percy was glaring at him, the spoon now banging against the rim of his bowl. And George had a gleam in his light brown eyes, something that was in his mum's eyes, but his brother's had a prankster's sparkle, while mum had an annoyed one.

'How can you say that with such pride when you nearly got the Ministry involved in the incident?' said his mum, as George gave a snort.

It wasn't as if they had on purpose tried to blow up the house? Sure, there was a bit of damage, and the Regening family down the road had seen the smoke, but the Ministry had managed to calm the Muggles down and make them forget that they had seen The Burrow nearly collapse.

There was no lasting damage…..

'But mum,' spoke up George, 'we did manage to learn from the mistakes we made about the entire incident, and we did manage to complete it the next time. Something you were complaining about only two weeks ago.'

Re-positioning himself on the chair, George flashed mum a smile as Ginny gave him a jab of her elbow.

'George!' said his mum, putting her hands on her hips.

What? It wasn't as if she hadn't felt relieved when they had finished the entire prank range for their latest products. George and he had heard her muttering her thanks to what ever was looking after them on the day they had announced completing their prank. She might have been a bit annoyed that they had tried again, but she was relieved when it was finished.

It was even worth getting yelled at for two hours straight.

'But it is a good thing when we learn from our mistakes,' said George.

'You've always taught us that,' added Fred.

The two exchanged glances.

_Exactly,_ thought Fred, _she can't argue with that_

'The two of you,' cut in Bill's voice as he leaned up against a cupboard, 'give mum some slack.'

Bill had his own look in his eyes.

A warning, but that didn't mean he and his twin would give up without a fight.

'We're only repeating what she said,' Fred said.

Mum gave a little sniff.

As she turned back to the breakfast, the sound of a click of a tongue made his attention return to his siblings.

Percy was showing mock disapproval again. But Percy only gave a few before returning his attention to his breakfast.

The fact that Percy's eyes were brighter than usual, the spark brighter than usual that gave him away.

But he wasn't the only one.

Bill caught his attention from his place between the kitchen table and the cupboards on the far side of the kitchen, and gave him the slightest of nods. A nod that was telling him exactly what Bill expected him to do.

Brothers. Why was it now that Bill decided had to be the time that he acted as big brother?

Bill sent another nod in his direction.

_Fine, fine, I am going to listen,_ Fred thought.

The sound of another sigh made him look towards his mum.

_Shit!_ Fred thought. _She noticed_

Dropping his head, he tried to think of someway of diverting her attention. If she figured out that they were up to no good again, this time it wouldn't be a two hour lecture, it would be even worse.

And the rest of the siblings would be dragged into it this time.

Charlie saved them. With a rude hand gesture towards Fred, Charlie picked himself up and moved next to mum.

And she instantly recognised the sign.

Mum piled more sausages onto his plate before shoving the saucepan off the heated ring. Turning his head, Charlie flashed all of them a grin before returning to his chair.

'I will be leaving in a few minutes,' mum spoke, cutting into the silent conversation between Charlie and George, who had answered Charlie's rude gesture.

'Leaving?' said Bill, his head shooting up.

'Yes,' said mum, 'I need to go to pick up your brother, Hermione and Harry.'

She pulled the sleeves of her blouse up to her elbows.

'You mean they are finally coming home?' said Fred as Bill caught his eye.

Bill was giving him another look. This time it was the –We're not going to find out anything if you show mum you have an interest- look.

Should he listen?

Well, this was his older brother and this older brother had been the one who had given him, Lee and George the good idea for their last prank.

'Shut it,' growled George, giving the slightest tug of his sleeve.

His twin, as discreetly as he could, pulled him into the chair.

'Yes,' said mum, 'they are coming home. And I am leaving the house in the care of Bill and Charlie. Anything those two say, other than what is obviously insane to, follow. I am quite sure all of you are capable of distinguishing the two.'

Mum's eyes could always make the strongest wizard shiver upon feeling their stare, and unluckily for Fred, it was usually directed towards him. True, he deserved it most of the time-

Ah, mum was glaring at him again. No, no, she was staring down at Charlie and Bill.

And they were responding in the best way they knew how. They turned their heads away, both were looking at the floors and had taken the best defence they knew. The two had shifted closer to each other, Charlie winding his arm around the back of his chair.

Bill was giving Charlie's chair a slight push with his foot, but Fred knew better. Bill wanted the comfort Charlie could give him.

'And as I am leaving the house in your hands,' mum continued, 'I am expecting this house to bare no marks of any of your foolishness when I return. I may be gone until tomorrow afternoon-'

'Tomorrow afternoon?' Fred cut in.

He knew that Bill was signalling for him to remain silent. He just knew that Bill was gesturing for him to shut up and let mum speak.

And just because he knew this, and his twin could see Bill, didn't mean that George would keep quiet when he decided to follow Bill's instructions.

'Why will it take so long?' George asked. 'I thought they were all together?'

He could hear Bill give a slight groan, and knew exactly what position Bill was trying to curl himself into. Bill would be undoubtedly be trying to bury his head into his hands, while Charlie would be sneaking his hand so that he was gently resting it on Bill's back, hidden of course from mum's view.

'They are,' mum said, giving one last bang of a saucepan before weaving her way through them.

Charlie gave Bill a tap on his back, the signal for Bill to raise his head, who did. As Bill watched mum pause on the staircase to gaze back at them, Charlie removed his hand from Bill's back after one last gesture of comfort.

'So?' said George, 'why will it take so long?'

Bill growled George's name under his breath but it was Charlie who made George bite his tongue. By a few well chosen words muttered barely under his breath.

Charlie always knew how to keep control. Bill might be the oldest, but the one who was wise was Charlie. And all knew it, well…well, any who knew Bill and Charlie truly.

Ron and Ginny didn't. Neither did mum or dad.

There were some things that were best left to the ones truly closest to you.

'There are a few matters to be discussed,' their mum said as she disappeared up into the next storey and closed a door.

Ginny gave all of us a disgusted look before she stomped over to the sink. Dropping her plate and the utensils into the soupy liquid, Ginny scooped up a few of the suds with her hand and as she turned, she flicked them at us. The suds settled on George's shoulder, causing Ginny's mouth to smile before she scampered up the stairs and a moment later, they heard the door to her bedroom slam shut.

George, gently shaking his head, pushed the suds off his sweater before smudging it into his pants.

The mood instantly changed.

_We can finally relax, _Fred thought, _no one left to overhear._

Fred heard George heave a sigh. His head swung to look at his twin.

_What's the matter? _he thought. _Surely what Ginny did didn't bother you that much?_

In his hearts of hearts, Fred knew that George was worried about their only sister. George had brought the matter up the last time they had found time alone.

George believed that Ginny had never recovered from her first year at Hogwarts. Not that any of them could argue about that, as they all had noticed that Ginny wasn't the same little girl she had been before she had left The Burrow for the school.

She was quieter now. When Ginny returned to The Burrow, she spent most of the time in her room; nothing being able to be heard through her door. They knew that she was constantly sending letters, Ginny nearly abducted Pig during these times and he was frequently seen flying to and from her bedroom window. But she rarely appeared, except for when mum insisted her to be involved in a family function or to go to Diagon Alley.

She stayed away from all of them and no amount of coaxing could make her stay longer than she wanted to around them.

And when Ginny was at Hogwarts, she kept to her small group of friends. Her three friends, two boys and a girl, and if there names had been heard correctly were Edmond, Liam and Mary, were with her at all times. The four of them must have had their own little hide away, as they were rarely seen.

And when Ginny was seen it was only during her classes. But she always sat in the back, surrounded by her friends and rarely spoke in class. If the reports were anything to go by, Ginny was doing quite well in the grades department, but probably not in anything else.

At one point, one of the professors had approached Percy, softly inquiring about Ginny. Percy answered as best as he could, nervous he told us, before the conversation finally ended. Or, he thought it had ended, after fifteen minutes of talking with the professor, asking him to keep an eye on Ginny.

The professors were worried about her.

Percy had assured the professor that Ginny would be kept under a careful eye, before spreading the word to their friends, himself and George, and by owl, the same to Bill and Charlie.

I guess that's why he wants Ginny to join the group…..

The sound of Charlie twisted in his chair to push two of his own sausages onto Bill's plate cuts into Fred's thoughts.

'I'm eating enough,' Bill muttered, making an attempt to move his plate away.

Fred could barely keep from snorting. Bill knew better than that.

And Charlie would, of course, not allow it. He never had before and he certainly wouldn't start now. Charlie, just like the rest of us had been watching Bill very closely.

None of us had any influence over our mum and dad, but Bill, or Charlie, if it ever came to that…..

_We can protect those two, _Fred thought, _thankfully_

'No, you are not!' said Charlie. 'And don't argue with me.'

Let's see Bill try. He would of course. I knew that. George knew that. We all knew he would try to get out of it.

'I-' said Bill.

'Yesterday you barely grabbed a rasher before Apparating out!' cut in Charlie, waving his fork inches from Bill's face.

The message got through. Bill's face slightly contorted as he blanched.

But it wasn't as if doing so; showing that he knew Charlie was right would get him out of the argument. Charlie always got his way if the situation called for him to push.

This one needed more than a gently shove. Someone had to intervene.

We were all worried about the two, but Bill in particular.

He wasn't eating. Even though mum tried to pile extra food onto his plate and put snacks into his hands. We stocked food all over the house in places that mum, dad, Ron and Ginny wouldn't be able to find and we would sneak it out as much as possible. Bill and Charlie would find small bits of it around The Burrow and in our hideouts.

And we would force them to eat….

Bill wasn't getting enough rest. If Bill was returning from one of The Order Meetings, then it was the easiest to convince Charlie and him to go to bed. They were too tired to argue.

If it wasn't, then it was like trying to force a Norwegian Ridgeback dragon to land on a tree's branch, which I heard from Charlie is next to impossible. If those two did go to bed, whether it be by the orders of mum and dad, or by our subtle glances, without a doubt, in a few hours, we would hear the unmistakable sounds of one or both, moving around.

And though they would quieten down when any of us or mum, dad or Ginny were going to bed, in the middle of the night we would hear them walking around The Burrow, whispering softly to each other.

But Bill was undoubtedly the worse one to care for.

We couldn't get him to sleep; he always managed to get up later and stay awake until the early hours of the morning but the least we could do was get him to eat properly.

Charlie had made this his personal mission, so Bill wasn't going to weasel his way out of this one.

'Eat all of this,' said Charlie, using his fork to point to the sausages and the scrambled egg left on Bill's plate. 'All of it. Understand?'

By the look of Bill's face, he was ready to argue. And argue he would.

We had heard stories from other witches and wizards of how hard-headed Bill could be. He could be stubborn, a trait it seemed that all of us carried, and when he had a task to fulfil, nothing would get into his way. He would argue about anything to anyone, which had gotten him into trouble with the goblins he worked for.

And Charlie would be no exception.

'But-' said Bill.

'It doesn't matter how important you are to that Order,' Fred said, giving the slightest wave of his hand.

Not many ever picked up on that. Many witches and wizards thought that all twins shared some kind of telepathic ability that made it possible for them to finish each other's sentences.

But it wasn't that.

_Unless George isn't telling me something, _he thought.

It was just that they understood each other. It was by simply watching the other carefully. Watching the movements they were making, the movements they weren't.

The tone the other was using. The hidden tone contained in the voice. The gestures made while they were speaking.

It was just everything rolled into one.

If anything, the connection that all twins shared was shared between he, his four brothers and any friends who were close enough.

'You are going to collapse if you don't start eating,' added George, 'or getting actual rest instead of one hour naps.'

Bill snorted.

'There is no need for any of you to baby me,' he muttered.

'Yes there is,' said Charlie, 'now eat.'

And that was it.

Charlie had given the order, and it would have to be obeyed. You didn't disobey Charlie, not when he gave an order.

Especially when you were part of the Weasley group.

And it was our own group that always received our full attention. It didn't matter where any of us were, if one of us needed the rest to be there for them, then the cry went out and we all returned.

It was by secret if it was during the school months. Over the years, the five generations of Weasley siblings and their friends had found various hideouts in and around Hogwarts. And, we had also learned the numerous paths that would lead us to these places.

Actually, it was always by secret. No matter where we were, we had to meet in secret. Especially when we were at The Burrow, where it was not possible to be left alone as usually the entire family was there. We had to retreat to the far side of the garden, underneath the seven oak trees that created a grassy clearing beneath them, or to the small cove next to the small pond on the edge of their home territory.

But they really hadn't had to bother this time. While all Hogwarts students left to spend the summer holidays with their families, he and his twin among them, Ron, Harry and Hermione had not followed.

None of us could see the reason for them not to be on the train. Ron should have been on the train along with us to return to The Burrow, Hermione to temporary residence of her parents before arriving at our house herself and lastly, Harry dealing with his abysmal uncle and aunt for a few weeks before we would rescue him.

But they hadn't.

Those three had disappeared nearly a month before school ended. No one knew where they were and none of the professors would answer our questions.

Even Bill and Charlie weren't informed.

'What's the matter, Fred?' said the soft voice of George.

Fred felt George place a hand on his shoulder, the slightest of squeezes to convey the comfort he needed.

He couldn't help but sigh.

He didn't want to tell George exactly what was bothering him. He didn't want to tell the rest of his siblings what he was thinking.

He knew, though the rest of his siblings kept countering all of the arguments, that all of them were worried about Ginny. And he didn't want to add to their troubles.

He couldn't add to their troubles.

And he wouldn't.

'Fred?' said the voice of Charlie.

He could hear Charlie get up before standing by his side. And then Charlie placed a hand on his other shoulder.

Oh no, Fred didn't need Charlie getting involved. It was bad enough that George was paying attention, but for Charlie…..

That meant Bill would join in, and quickly enough, the rest would add their voice.

They would make him tell.

'Fred?' said George, 'you need to explain what is bothering you.'

_Damn._

Well, he was at a dead end. He couldn't get out of this.

Unless…..

'I'm just worried about Ginny,' Fred said after a slight pause.

His eyes rested on the plate of food before him, his right hand idly playing with his fork. But he could feel that Charlie was staring at Bill, his lips moving ever so slightly as he asked Bill something. The words were so soft that Fred didn't have a chance to hear it.

Not that he could even make an attempt.

If he even moved his head ever so slightly, one of them would notice. Bill and Charlie may be talking to each other on the next move they would do to get Fred to speak, but the rest were still listening. And watching.

Only one slight flick of Percy or George's fingers, and he would have the unwavering gazes of Bill and Charlie directed at him.

'Really?' said the soft voice of Percy, his blue-grey eyes staring at me.

_Damn!_

Well, I hadn't really believed that I would be able to fool them. They knew me too well.

They had noticed the slight pause. They had seen his hand playing with his fork.

They knew why he wasn't looking up at them.

But he never had been able to lie to their eyes. They could pick up the signs everyone else missed, even if those lot suspected that they were lying.

But between them, they could narrow into anything he did. The faded sparkle in his eyes. The slightest of twitches around the corners of his mouth.

They knew that he hated lying to them; that he avoided it as much as possible.

They knew that's why he avoided eye contact when he said that.

'Fred?' said George's voice.

Now I had all of their eyes on me.

I wasn't getting out of this. Not that I thought I actually had a chance of not answering their questions, but….. I guess I could hope.

All of us had enough to worry about. With mum. And dad. And Ginny.

All we needed was someone else to add to the list.

Bill shifted in his seat.

'Tell us the truth, Fred,' said Charlie, blue eyes narrowing as he watched my shoulders droop.

They weren't going to like this. Not at all.

'It's about what mum said on Ron, Harry and Hermione,' Fred said softly.

He couldn't help but secretly hope that they wouldn't be able to hear his words. And that they would just drop it when they couldn't understand.

I knew they wouldn't, but I guess I could hope.

Percy sighed.

'It's doubtful they will tell us anything,' he said, 'even after the three have arrived.'

'They never do,' said George. 'We always have to listen in on conversations to find out anything.'

'There is no need to sound so annoyed,' said the voice of Charlie. 'We will find out when we find out.'

'And this is coming from the one who spent last night sitting on the stairs trying to listen to McGonegall and Dumbledore talking to mum and dad,' said Percy.

Charlie looked over his shoulder, undoubtedly scowling at Percy.

'And were you not the one sitting beside him, Percy?' said Bill, slouching in the chair.

Percy scrunched up his nose.

I couldn't help but laugh.

This was the Percy we all knew. This was the Percy that no one but us knew.

For all of his 'holier than thou' attitude was someone who actually could relax and laugh at himself.

He could accept a prank where his hair turned bright blue, sparkled and sang the national anthem. He would stare at himself in the mirror, shake his head slightly before…..

But no one else ever saw this side of him.

When ever anyone else was around, he had to go through the entire fiasco of the Act. He has to stomp around, eyes squinted as he screams words out in his perfectionist tone.

As if his mind has instantly strung together numerous words to tell them off.

Of course, that is not true. We have to rehearse everything beforehand. We can't have a slip-up.

Percy refuses to let anyone else see who he truly is. And we have to respect that.

So we always fall into the old routine.

'Were you not the one who nearly assaulted me when we returned?' said Percy's voice.

That smile returned.

That coy little smile that made us grin and laugh, whether we really wanted to or not.

We knew he was up to something.

Or would be.

His jokes weren't like mine and George's. They were more subtle, but could be just as deadly.

But no one saw them. No one ever saw that side of him.

And he could rival what we did.

'More likely your lack of sleep made you believe that,' said Bill.

The slightest of snorts.

'Is that the excuse you use when you try and delusion yourself to an obvious fact?' said Percy.

Did Bill's face just blanche?

Oh, it did. Yes it did.

He knows he isn't going to get out of this. He knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that he won't get out of this.

No one can match Percy's wit.

And the way he used words that made it seem that any ones you used were insignificant in comparison.

You just couldn't win.

'Is your game now to confuse everyone as much as possible?' Bill muttered.

Percy gave him a smirk.

'What other joy am I supposed to feel in this life?' he said.

'If you are not careful,' said George, 'he'll end up just like us.'

Percy winked.

'I believe it was the three of you that learned such tricks from me,' he said.

Well, that was true. Between Percy and Charlie, the three of our ideas for pranks were formed. Sure, Bill helped. He had been a bit of a prankster when he was at school, but Percy was the one who gave us the best hand.

Bill and Charlie spent the most time apart from the rest of us when we were younger, when myself and George were growing up. Bill and Charlie were at Hogwarts and Percy was the one who took care of us as mum had to deal with the War, and Ron and Ginny.

And during those times, Percy would let his imagination loose. He would show the true him as he would tinker with various objects around the house and explain to us how to make things work.

His eyes would shine. His mouth would twitch. His hands would dance back and forth as he made the movements to go along with what he was saying…..

But he would never try anything out. He would never show anyone. And it was only until he was brought out of his shell years later did the old him return and George and I remember the earlier years.

'Hey!' said Charlie, hitting the side of the table, 'what about me?'

'What about you?' said Percy.

There. That smirk was back.

He knew exactly how riled up he was making Charlie.

And he was loving it.

'Shut up and get ready for work,' growled Charlie, the slightest twinkle in his eye.

Percy sighed.

Bill patted him softly on the back.

_Poor Percy, _Fred thought.


	3. Chapter 3

'_Bloody conspiracy!' _Harry thought.

It just had to be. There was no other explanation for it.

It didn't matter if Ron managed to get his say in the matter. It didn't amount to one thing if Hermione managed to interrupt the conversation and add her own two pence.

They just wouldn't listen.

Of course, they said they had a good reason for it.

_Reason? Ha!_

They didn't have a good reason. Their reason didn't amount to shit.

But would they realise that?

Oh no! What would six children know about this?

Nothing, of course.

'Be that as it may,' said the soft voice of 'McGonegall', 'that does not ensure that their stay will not be hampered.'

'I thought the entire idea was to keep everything as normal as possible?' said Hermione.

Yes. The fight had started.

We might just be kids. And we may have little experience in dealing with people…..

Or that's what the Masters keep saying.

Ha!

Just because the last few times we have 'dealt' with people have ended up in us being thrown out of the offices and given several weeks of Detention…..

It wasn't as if they had decided from the very beginning to piss off everyone else. They didn't want to end up in Detention for the millionth time since this entire business had started.

It just usually ended up that way.

And Mione was ready to defend it all the way if necessary, even though we were usually the ones who dragged her into the entire mess.

Yep, she was already in the fighting stance. Lips quivering, eyes staring straight at 'McGonegall'.

'Enough suspicion has already been raised due to the nature of us staying at Hogwarts after school term officially ended,' said Hermione.

Her eyebrow was raised.

And she looked seconds from punching the next object that moved.

Not that she would dare with the Masters so close.

She didn't have a Death Wish.

Or at least, not with the Masters. If it had been one of Them, then it was fair game.

We all know the truth. We all know how our end will probably be made.

The Masters might not have realised that just yet, but we did.

But that did not mean she was seriously wishing that she could punch the next object that moved.

_-Easy, Mione- _he thought _–you will have your chance soon enough-_

Though it wouldn't be Masters or any of Them that she would be destroying with her tongue.

It would be us.

One of the bad points of knowing the true Mione.

With everyone else, she always restrained herself. It wouldn't do for her to go around punching every single one of them whenever she lost her temper.

And she did have a bad temper. We knew because we were around her the most.

When she lost her temper, something or someone was going to be destroyed.

And there was nothing that could be done about it.

The Masters had sent her to anger management to try and help her learn to control it, but it hadn't.

Even the therapists they sent us to couldn't find a reason for it.

Oh, they had theories of why all of us had bad tempers. Theories that weren't worth the money the Masters were dishing out to try and make sure that there was always a way for us to survive in the new world we were going to find ourselves soon enough.

Voldie and His Servants weren't going to wait that long before they made their first attack.

And by first I meant one that couldn't be viewed as anything but the public return of Voldie.

For everyone else of course. We knew the truth, but our opinion didn't count.

We were a great asset for the Masters, but our skills weren't good enough for the War to win. The Masters had to recruit, and with great difficulty, they were.

But it would take some time.

Which they didn't have.

Which was why all of a sudden the Masters were changing their original plans; starting with the entire situation of the six.

The Masters didn't want us to return to The Burrow.

Despite the fact that we were needed to be there in order to act as the middle men between the Masters and the Weasley siblings who were potential candidates.

Excluding Bill and Charlie of course.

They were already involved in the plans that would help their side of the War. They were already placed in positions, with the added bonus of their positions in Europe.

Bill and Charlie just didn't know about us, that was all.

Very few knew about us anyway.

The Masters wanted it that way.

Unfortunately, the few that did know, were not exactly the ones who we wanted to know.

'Circumstances have changed,' said 'McGonegall'.

That caused all of our eyebrows to rise, excluding Mione's, which already was arched to complete perfection.

Circumstances?

There had been no changes since the last report given to the Masters on the entire situation.

The Followers of Riddle were still keeping their heads low, though that hadn't stopped them from sneaking around in the shadows.

The Ministry might have been holding all of their attention on other matters, but it was a different story for us. The Masters had, years before, carefully positioned some of Our Side there to report of the various gossip and news floating around the Ministry.

They had proved invaluable multiple times.

Which was why we had been there when Riddle's Followers had gone through with the final stages of their latest plan. Our lateness was only due to finding out about the first part of the Riddle's plan two days after it was played out.

None of us witnessed the 'relative' of one of the old prisoners of Azkaban visiting said family. Or this 'relative' being allowed to move freely through the prison, including the Dementers being regulated to one side, because the Riddle's Follower had led them to assume that they were of influential breed.

Money and level of society allowed for many privileges to be given.

And this resulted in an 'unknown' potion being mysteriously added to the food and drink stores reserved solely for the guards while the 'relative' was wandering around. With each meal passing with more of this 'unknown' potion being added to the guards' bodies, the guards began to show signs of tiredness and upset stomachs.

And suddenly a strange but non-serious sickness swept through Azkaban.

It wasn't serious enough to warrant for new guards to be sent to Azkaban in order to relieve the ones there now. It simply meant that the Azkaban guards were forced to change their shifts. Half of the guards were always in their dormitories, trying to recover from this mysterious sickness, while the rest had extended shifts.

The longer shifts were in hope that it would cause the ones off to recover quicker.

But that wasn't all the 'relative' did.

While moving through the halls of Azkaban, the 'relative' passed on the latest scheme to the ones who were incarcerated.

And so on a cold, foggy night, the last part of the operation was put into play.

This time, two groups from Our Side were watching.

They were there when seven factions of Riddle's Followers appeared at the Unplottable dock used as the last point before any travelled to the hell-hole known as the Azkaban prison. With one of the Followers stepping foreword into the vision of the two guards placed at the dock, a conversation of a few sentences apiece were spoken between the two guards and the Follower.

The two were only able to utter those sentences because both had their bodies all of a sudden become rigid. The Follower blew the guards a kiss and a moment later, both fell to the ground.

Our Side believed it was a simple Stunning spell.

The Follower was joined by the rest of her group, and they took the only boat housed at the dock. With a wave of spray, the Followers travelled to the Azkaban prison.

Our Side were able to follow due to our own mode of transport arranged a few weeks before. What looked like a broken rowing boat half sunken into the water was in fact a full-working boat that had been given added features borrowed from the Muggle World. It was with these additions that could give Our Side the option of being able to over-take the boat the Followers were in, in case there were any need for intervention.

But Our Side had no need, and they followed the boat until it reached the island.

Upon waiting for the Followers disappearing, Our Side docked their own boat and watched as the plan of Tom Riddle was carried out.

The Followers overpowering the few Azkaban guards who were well enough to put up a fight. The rest of the guards were easily put out of commission and Riddle's Followers walked freely through the prison.

Certain prisoners, such as the Lestranges, being sprung from their cells.

Three of Riddle's Followers making their way to the Storage Files and destroying all evidence of the prisoners being there in the first place.

And during this entire time, Our Side noticed that none of the Dementers were flitting around. Two of our Own Side went investigating. In the highest tower, they discovered from over-hearing a conversation between a few of the Followers, that a promise had been made to the Dementers by Tom Riddle.

He had given them His word that He would give them the freedom to be in the presence of all prisoners taken by Him and His Followers.

He promised them more souls than any the Ministry provided in the prison.

And they accepted.

The new knowledge was passed on to the rest of Our Side who were there.

But none intercepted when the Followers continued the plan.

When the Followers placed Memory Charms on every single one of the guards who had had to been restrained. To the guards, they never had had the prisoners who were loyal to Tom Riddle in Azkaban prison.

Thus it ended.

The Followers left Azkaban in the boat. The two guards who had been stationed at the dock on the mainland were given the same treatment as the ones on the island. Memory Charms were placed on them.

And, the entire plan was finished.

Our Side watched this, but did nothing but watch.

We watched as the repercussions of what happened played out.

The Ministry mysteriously lost all records of the prisoners who had been removed from Azkaban. The Ministry and their Minister never even realised that the prisoners had disappeared.

All documents were removed before the annual inspection the Ministry officials did of Azkaban.

And when the Ministry became suspicious, as a few did know every single one of the prisoners that were locked away in the prison, a folded up piece of parchment was found in one of the back files.

It informed all that the Lestrange couple had managed to break from their cells. They had gotten as far as the ground floor before three Dementers had interrupted their escape. Before any of the Azkaban guards could intervene, the Dementers had given the two the Dementer's kiss.

It was signed by the Head Guard of Azkaban.

And when the Ministry officials had investigated this, they found that each of the Azkaban guards agreed to this.

With each prisoner who had been locked up in Azkaban due to ties to Tom Riddle, an unfortunate report sprung up, informing all who read it of their demise in different ways.

Tom Riddle was being very careful.

He knew that the Ministry were refusing to believe that He had returned. But that did not mean He would give them reason to.

It was better for Him that they remained with their heads in the sand for as long as possible. That way, Our Side was given more resistance by the Ministry.

And it was harder for us to fight Him if half of our mind had to be diverted towards the Ministry.

Those were the circumstances we had been dealing with.

What could possibly have changed?

'And what, exactly, are these new circumstances?' said Hermione.

I did not blame her the anger in her voice.

Our lives had always been set for us. We never had much choice in what we did.

Hermione liked to say that Fate was the one who was guiding the Masters' hands. That it was Fate's fault in the first place of the condition we kept finding ourselves in.

Myself and the rest had, of course, a different opinion. We believed that the Masters were simply responding to the World we were living in.

Hermione wouldn't agree.

She liked blaming Fate.

We had given up trying to convince her otherwise.

But what she believed in could niche in perfectly with the situations we always founding ourselves in.

Our lives were dictated from the start.

Our childhood was not one full of playful games and numerous fun.

We were recruited from a young age into the Order of the Phoenix. Of course, we weren't officially members of the organisation.

We were too young.

We were just support staff for the members of the Order of the Phoenix.

And as such, our games were different from the ones children played or invented at the time.

Instead of playing the simple game of Hide and Go Seek, the Masters taught us a crueller version. The principles were the same, all hid except for one who had to find the others, but that was where the similarities ended. The ones who hid took the time the seeker was counting to booby-trap certain areas and to position themselves carefully in a hiding place which offered them escape and ample room to fight and ambush.

Upon the seeker finishing their counting, they would set out to find the rest, but with difficulties. They would have to contend with the traps and the endless possibility of being ambushed.

The game only ended when either the seeker had found, controlled or subdued every single one of the hidden, or had been captured by one or ones in hiding. It was extremely hard for the one who had been chosen as seeker, and the Masters were always careful that each one of us were given a turn.

It was extreme teaching for all of us, but it taught us how to survive in the World we would soon find ourselves in.

It was one of the many games the Masters put us through.

And as our childhood ended and we became old enough to attend Hogwarts, our training changed. The training sessions became less like games and more as actual periods of being taught to fight.

The hours became longer. We were allowed only a few mistakes during our sessions, until eventually the only mess-ups we were let away with was only when we were learning a new technique.

The masters apologised numerous times about putting us in this position, but there was nothing they could do.

We had to have a part in this War.

'Our delicate balance has changed,' said 'McGonegall.

'Balance?' said Ron.

He gave the smallest flick of his hand.

A few of the Masters frowned upon this action of irritation.

They were wrong to assume this of course. Ron was not showing a movement to convey his annoyance but for another reason.

Which was not meant for the Masters at all.

It was to signal something to the rest of his group. A group known to us and the Masters as The Predators.

Ron was showing his depreciation of how the Masters were treating us.

The message he sent us was one loosely translated as, -When do you believe the Masters will believe it is time to inform us of The Hingely Incident?-

Hermione sighed, another un-innocent gesture which conveyed the reply, -Probably when they believe we were old enough.-

Which was one more problem we had with the Masters.

Due to our young age, the Masters believed that there were certain points that should be kept secret. Certain information withheld from us.

It did not matter to the Masters that we had involved our all existence in this. There were still certain things that they believed we should have no knowledge of.

But of course that didn't mean we would allow to be kept in the dark.

We had our own methods of finding out what they were withholding from us.

Careful, of course, that the Masters never found out about it.

Last thing we needed was to have this one method we could truly control taken away from us.

'Before it was possible for certain events to unfold,' said "McGonegall'', 'without any outside disturbance. Now, due to a change of events, this is no longer an option.'

'And as such it means you can upset the delicate acts we have been playing for years now?' said Mione.

'There will be no need for such a word to be used in this new thread of the act,' said "McGonegall".

'And why not?' said Mione.

Instinctively we all drew back.

We all had faced her at one point or another. It was impossible not to with the kind of lifestyle we couldn't escape from.

And though she targeted us more often, as we were the ones who were around her almost constantly, there were times when she went after the Masters.

She never went easy on them due to their status, age or rank in our little Community. For her, we were all equal when it came to her temper and at one point, she had even gone as far as to carry out her threat on "Dumbledore".

It had taken six weeks before the spell that worn off and he could talk in his usual, double-sided way.

And that was only because "Dumbledore" had asked her to break one of her earlier vows. A trivial one at that.

But Mione wouldn't, and had attacked him for it.

Well, attacked probably wasn't the right word for it. She had turned red, bitten her bottom lip until it bled before she growled her threat.

And she waited a few days before carrying it out.

Usually, it would be this passing of time that would lead for the anger to ebb away. But this was Mione, not most people. And for her, her temper had only increased and by the end of the third day, she had a plan.

She waited for dusk of the next day, and carried out her threat.

"Dumbledore" thought twice when dealing with her.

So did all the other Masters.

Which always brought a small grin to my face.

I have overheard, more than once, others mentioning that they would never wish to piss off Ron's only sister. Even ones who barely know her, or meet her for the first time, instantly mutter that they would never wish to meet her down a dark alley when her anger is blazing.

News of her Bat-Bogey Curse spreads quickly.

It's actually how she is usually introduced. Her name is given, and then who ever is doing the exchanging of pleasantries, adds that she does one cruel Bat-Bogey Curse.

That usually raises a few eyebrows. And then the next stage is reached, where the person is stupid enough to test exactly how nasty her curse is, or else they simply take the advice, and are extremely careful around her.

Obviously, they have never met the true Mione.

Ginny may have quite a powerful Bat-Bogey Curse at her disposal, but Mione has something that is ten times worse.

Mione knows how to be cruel. She knows how to truly inflict pain. She knows how to make what ever she throws at you, whether it is words or actual physical contact with her magic or touch, wither your soul and make you wish that you had never met her.

She knows what makes her your worse enemy.

And what is sad to say is that the rest of our group is not that far behind.

'Due to security,' said "McGonegall", 'there will no longer be a need for you to be housed in The Burrow.'

'Need?' said Mione. 'Have you used this word when you were speaking to Aunt Molly about the entire matter?'

'Do you feel the need to question me?' said "McGonegall".

Mione drew a deep breath, before her eyes glanced over the rest of us.

She raised an eyebrow.

Oh boy. Mione had gone passed the stage of anger.

She was livid.

And the Elders were going to hear about it.

'You never asked her, did you?' said Mione. 'You never informed Aunt Molly that we would not be returning to The Burrow.'

'She will see the sense in it,' said "McGonegall".

'You know as well as I do that Aunt Molly will not have any of it,' said Mione. 'She's been adamant about all of us having time off when we can return to the actions of how all other witches and wizards are age get up to. And you think you can just go up to her when she does arrive and expect her to allow us to remain in Hogwarts instead of receiving rest and relaxation?'

'Once the facts have been explained,' said "McGonegall", 'she will understand.'

'Exactly how well do you know Aunt Molly?' said Ron. 'Even we realise that changing the rules so far in the game, after everything else she fights for, is a bad idea. Aunt Molly is going to be just as livid as Mione is expressing now.'

'Mione may be the only one who is showing her emotions,' I said, 'but remember that each one of us is harbouring this inside of us. And it will be Aunt Molly who will be showing it to you when she hears about the change in plans.'

My voice shook as I said this. But I doubt that I could have restrained myself even if I really wanted to.

The Masters had gone from simply refusing to believe, to completely not seeing sense.

'McGonegall' showed one of the first signs of discomfort. The smallest breaths of air escaped from her tight pressed lips and blew through the one lock of hair that had escaped from the usual tight bun near the beginning of this entire conversation.

'You do realise that she will be arriving soon,' said Mione. 'She is expecting to bring us all back to The Burrow, excluding Neville, Seamus and Dean of course. When she is informed of the change in plans, she will wreck every argument you bring up against her on the reason why we can not enjoy this summer holiday.'

Hermione ever so slightly glanced in our direction. Only Ron replied to her question on whether any of us wished to join in, with a simple shake of his head.

We would leave Mione to battle this out.

'As you were told from the very start of this alternative life for all of you,' said 'McGonegall', 'none of you will truly be able to live as normal children. Your lifestyle will not allow you all the pleasures most children enjoy, and as such, you all know perfectly well that you can not always be given a summer holiday.'

'And Aunt Molly has been fighting this from the start,' said Mione. 'She has always advocated that though our entire lifestyle may be different from normal children, that does not mean we can be treated like the adults who have the same duties as we do. We still need to be treated like children, which means that we deserve to have summer holidays when it is possible.'

'And that is what I am informing you of now,' said 'McGonegall'. 'Due to changes, you do not have the possibility of having your summer holidays.'

'Yes we do,' said Mione. 'Unless you tell us news that causes us to agree, we will still side with Aunt Molly on this and demand that we are given our holidays!'

'You have always known that there are some information that we must keep from you for your own good,' said 'McGonegall'.

'And it is that kind of attitude which has caused our missions to be noticed,' I said.

A sudden silence fell over the room.

Nothing could be argued about that. Even the Masters wouldn't have a reply against those words, especially since it was coming out of my mouth.

Quite a bit of trouble had been caused because of us being sighted when our group was trying to fulfil a mission. It usually meant misery for me, as they seemed to notice more of my actions than the rest of ours.

This was mostly due to the fame that I had attracted due to an event that I could not even remember, and a power I had not displayed since that night. But still, the Wizarding World seemed to expect big things from me, and so constantly kept me under close scrutiny.

And it was the rest of the group who were usually the ones who had to stop me, or Hermione, from over-reacting and showing the public exactly what they thought about them.

Even a small talk from 'Dumbledore' hadn't made us change our mind on the entire issue.

'At the time-' said 'McGonegall'.

'At the time,' I cut in, 'you deemed it not important for us to know. You chose for us to remain ignorant, which resulted in mistakes being made that nearly destroyed the secrecy all of us have worked so hard to maintain. At the time, we were none the wiser, but surely you have learnt from all the trouble it has caused everyone before, and decide to tell us all the information, not on what you think we should know.'

'Unless it pertains to your missions,' said 'McGonegall', 'it will remain within the Masters. If it does, than you will be told.'

'We were given those exact words when we first heard of Sirius Black,' I said. 'You warned us against him, telling us that he had an agenda against one of our own, myself. You placed extra restrictions on all of us just in case, as you were afraid that if Sirius Black saw how close-knit our groups were, that he might target one of us.'

'You were right on that count,' Ron muttered under my breath.

I sent him the smallest of smiles.

'You never told us that each one of you were having doubts about the entire situation of how Sirius Black was charged with the deaths of James and Lily Potter, or the ruthless killing of twelve Muggles and a wizard,' I continued. 'Due to the fact that you never informed us that some of you were wondering if he was truly responsible, Ron, Mione and I nearly killed him. If Remus Lupin hadn't intervened, we probably would have and then his innocence and he never would have been able to add his abilities to the weak Order of the Phoenix.'

'If we had informed you of our doubts,' said 'McGonegall', 'it might have had serious repercussions. What would have happened if he had managed to breach our security shields, and you met him face to face? What would be the end result if you had faltered when faced him with, and we had been wrong? What if he had evil intent and he did you all great harm?'

'And did we not meet him?' I said, 'and did the entire experience not prove his innocence?'

'It may not have been such a favourable outcome!' cut in 'McGonegall'.

'We no longer can review over those past actions,' I said, 'not anymore. We can not change what happened, and as such, I am quite sure that you will agree that due to these circumstances, it will be imperative that you explain these new aspects which mean we need to chance a never-failing routine.'

'I am afraid not,' said 'McGonegall'.

'And what changes are these?' cut in a new voice.

There was no need to turn. We knew exactly who it was.

And there was no need to answer the question either. It wasn't ours to answer anyway.

And even Mione wouldn't. Even though she had the anger inside of her, and the feeling that she had the right, Mione wouldn't violate it.

Our argument with the Masters over the new problems did mean that we would side with Aunt Molly upon her learning of the changes, but that did not mean that we would be the ones to tell Aunt Molly of the new predicament.

It wasn't because we were scared of her reaction. We had learned of the various ways to deal with Aunt Molly with each situation we ever came across.

No, it wasn't that.

It was simply the fact that it was not our argument. Though it involved us, we were not the ones who could bring it up.

That was for 'McGonegall'.

And even Mione recognised it, which was a feat remarkable in itself. Not because Mione had decided to let 'McGonegall' inform Aunt Molly of the new changes, Mione did know when such a restraint was necessary, but this was due to the fact that Mione recognised 'McGonegall's authority.

The nod she sent towards 'McGonegall' was not one of malice. It was a simple nod of handing the entirety of the question from Aunt Molly's mouth to full responsibility of 'McGonegall'.

And even 'McGonegall' recognised the motion for what it was.

'Molly,' said 'McGonegall' in her usual, brisk voice, 'there has been a change to our current plans.'

Aunt Molly's eyes narrowed upon those words. We could tell that she was sizing up each word that 'McGonegall' had spoken, weighing the importance of each one.

She knew that this was not the regular conversation of a new time being assigned to an event due to a small mishap.

'And exactly, what, pray?' said Aunt Molly, her lips squishing into bare strips upon each time her mouth closed, 'are these changes in current plans?'

Barely a flicker was exchanged among us.

We knew exactly what situation 'McGonegall' had found herself in. She had to tread carefully, or else there would be no chance of Aunt Molly seeing sense of the new changes in our plans.

Not that we wanted her to win the argument, but we could sense her frantic searching inside of her head of exactly how she was going to handle this.

And while Aunt Molly watched each and every slightest movement 'McGonegall' made, we took the time to assess our own situation.

-Our schedule will only become more hectic- motioned Seamus.

-They will start to notice- replied Dean.

-They were bound to begin soon enough anyway- said Neville –We no longer could hide all of our actions from them. And I doubt any of us could truthfully say that we did not wish for them to start to realise-

His eyebrow ever so slightly rose. Not enough to be noticed by the two adults nearby, but arched enough for the meaning to be conveyed to them.

-I thought we all agreed that none of them are ready for this?- I said.

-You can not always be given what you wish- said Mione –especially in our line of work-

-Did we not tell you that you could not use that kind of thought?- Ron said –ever?-

Mione's nose ever so slightly, twitched.

Definitely not a good sign.

If Mione was in this frame of mind, then it would be an uneasy relationship brought to The Burrow. There were already new problems that were going to be hovering over the Weasley home, as the situation they dealt with more and more with each passing day was becoming exceedingly worse, and the addition of this would and could only lead to new problems.

And they did not need this.

They had more than enough incidents, objects and duties to juggle, and a situation concerning Mione would make it even worse.

For Mione wasn't like other girls. She had a different kind of life than any of them could possibly lead, and dealt with different problems.

And due to these small but important variations, Mione was extremely difficult to deal with.

It wasn't as though she was a girl who ranted and screamed because she wasn't getting her way. Or turned to childish methods such as giving the one she was annoyed with the silent method until she was given what she wanted.

Oh no.

Mione had learned, just as well as they did, the subtle art of hiding all emotions.

She was a master at taking all of her emotions, suppressing it deep down and locking it all up in a small box at the back of her mind. And thus, forgetting of its existence.

But it always was there. Niggling at their minds.

It never left you.

And if Mione managed to corner herself into that mood again, the rest of the group might not be able to bring her out of it again.

Last time, they had been lucky.

'And exactly what do you mean when you say that the three are unable to spent some quality and well needed rest at The Burrow!' said the voice of Aunt Molly.

Maybe the argument between Aunt Molly and 'McGonegall' might give the rest of the group the added time they needed before Mione began her careful weaving of restricting the emotions she held inside.


	4. Chapter 4

Ginny closed the door of her bedroom, allowing her eyes to flutter as she gazed at the large poster sticking above her small bed. That poster was the last sign of the childhood she had allowed to remain after all these years.

All the others had been torn down upon her returning to The Burrow at the end of her first year.

On the first day back from Hogwarts, she hadn't stayed downstairs to eat dinner with the rest of her family. She hadn't relaxed in the living room with her brothers to laugh and chat on exactly what would be done during this summer holidays.

No, she had left all of them in the kitchen, Fred and George still holding onto her school trunk and had scurried up to her room.

She had been full of horrible emotions after…..

When Madame Pomphrey had finally given her permission to leave the Sick Wing, she had refused to leave the safety of her bed. It had taken three days before Edmond, Liam and Mary had managed to convince her to return to her Dormitory.

She had never been so thankful before that herself and Mary were the only female Gryffindor first years.

And the three wouldn't let her stew in her own emotions.

When the day to leave Hogwarts had arrived, the three had dragged her out of the bedroom, muttering that her belongings were already been cared for. It was only later that she had found out that Liam had approached the twins and had asked them to deal with her trunk.

With Liam and Edmond comfortably holding her between them, and Mary acting as the one to part the crowds, they had forced her onto the train. And refused to leave her alone.

Even when she had locked herself in the small compartment. She had needed the silence. She needed to feel alone.

She couldn't bare the fact that she was so raw that her emotions were easily seen.

But the three wouldn't have any of it.

They had used their combined magic to unlock all of the charms and hexes she had placed on the door. A simple hairpin had gotten past the last of the protections on the locked door. And they had strolled in.

Edmond wrapped his arms around her, holding her as she cried.

Liam gently patted her back.

Mary had dug into their daypacks and drew out all of their supplies of sweets.

Complete silence in the compartment except for her sobs.

She hadn't wanted to leave her friends when she had arrived at King Cross Station. She had dug her nails into Edmond's arms, screaming that she didn't want to leave them.

It had taken awhile before she had agreed to go home and only after Edmond, Mary and Liam had promised to lead her to her family.

Mum had given her plenty of hugs, but her eyes had only been on her three friends standing slightly behind her mum. Mary had given her a little wave.

She hadn't talked the entire way back to The Burrow. And her brothers had left her alone.

They gave her the window seat so that she could stare out into the countryside.

Not really seeing anything. Nothing registered, but the blur of the scenes passing by her eyes had given her a feeling of hopefulness.

It rushed through, just like the thoughts contained within her mind.

And it was during while she was in that rental car, borrowed from The Ministry, that she had made that fateful decision. The decision to forget her childhood.

Which was why when she had arrived at The Burrow, she had scampered straight up to her room.

And pulled down every single one of her posters.

The one of the silver unicorn gently grazing by the small pond in a shady clearing.

Of two puppies, nose to nose, with a Kneezle nestled in between them on a pink blanket.

Her favourite Quidditch team, which consisted mostly of female players, scoring their famous goal in the match against the Glasgow Giants in 1989.

Seven taken from their old, rightful places on the wall.

She had rolled them up, and stuffed them in her closet.

She had packed away her toys in old cardboard boxes, stuffing them underneath her bed.

She had packed away everything that was childish. And hadn't touched them since.

She never glanced down whenever she needed to remove something from the closet. Her eyes always remained looking straight to pull out what she needed.

It would always be that way. She figured that it would always be there.

And nothing would change that.

Nothing would or could make her return to her childhood.

Ginny sighed.

Most didn't miss their childhood until they were at least in their thirties. She was only fourteen, and had lost it when she was eleven.

She gently shook her head.

Damn Malfoy.

Closing her eyes, she let the blackness surround her. It was the double-edged sword, this blackness. On one hand, it meant that she no longer saw the changes that were around her ever since she had left Hogwarts after her first year, but it also meant that she would now be faced with her thoughts of everything that was going on around her.

All the times she had messed up.

The sound of tapping on her window caused her sight to return to her surroundings.

Jerking her head in that direction, she was met with the sight of a frosty grey, small owl beating its wings as it hovered inches from the glass. Taking two steps, Ginny opened the window to admit the creature in, which immediately flew in to its usual perch; the small one that was next to her wooden desk and offered its leg. She had accepted the letter attached to it.

Giving the owl a treat, she had flipped the letter open.

**Hey babe,**

**Dear Auntie had another one, so it doesn't look as though I will be rescuing you any time soon. But, don't worry as I already informed Edmond and Liam and the two are plotting a way to invite you over to one of their houses. At the moment, it looks like Edmond's as Liam has been fighting with his brother more often than usual.**

**And his parents are still siding with the brother so its best if you don't stay there.**

**I will be joining the three of you as soon as possible. I am not letting dear Auntie stop me from seeing the three of you again.**

**Finished all of it, so when we meet next I can show you what I've done. Still too risky to tell you in the letter, but you'll receive an earful when I see you next.**

**But guess what, it WORKS! It bloody well works so we'll be way ahead of everyone else.**

**Keep your head up, no matter what you family throws at you, babe. Liam and Edmond will be getting you out of there soon, I promise.**

**We all promise.**

**Love you lots babe**

**Mary**

A small smile flickered over Ginny's face.

She could always rely on them. They would never let her down.

Not that her family let her down. She wouldn't go as far as to say that. But they weren't sure with how to act around her ever since her first year.

They treated her as if she was made of glass. They always tried to be easy on her.

But that gave her too much lee-way. It wasn't helping her.

Liam, Mary and Edmond had proved that to her.

With each time her family gave in to her, or allowed her to throw a fit and curse someone with a Bat Bogey Hex, she retreated further into herself.

She had tried to refuse to realise. She had thrown every argument she could at her friends to prove them wrong.

Even though there was that little thought niggling at her mind. That thought. One that was the little voice telling her from the very beginning that the way her family was treating her would help her in the long run.

But in the end, she had to admit it to them. And to herself.

And now?

Now, it was extremely unlikely that she would ever be able to act around them like she used to. Not just because of her age, but because of the entire incident.

Her relationship between Liam, Mary and Edmond hadn't been allowed to break down. Her three friends wouldn't allow it.

But her family had. They had tried to be accommodating, and in the end, were giving in too much.

And now she felt like she couldn't tell them anything.

She didn't feel like she could rely on them.

She didn't think she could trust them.

But she wanted to. She wanted to go back to those old days when it was so easy for her to laugh. It was so easy for her to join in with her family and forget all of her troubles.

But it would never come back.

Never.

And she would just have to get used to it.

Ginny sighed.

But as her body relaxed, a thump sounded on her door. Instantly, her slumped shoulders seized up again.

She just wanted a few moments peace. Just a day to try and think through her thoughts.

She had never managed to make sense of anything all the other times she had shut herself away, but maybe…. Maybe this time…..

No, the banging against the wood just increased, and got louder.

She couldn't ignore it.

The quill in her hand dropped to the floor.

She had instinctively grabbed it upon receiving the letter. She always replied immediately.

Only with the special three of course.

Anyone else was met with a measured amount of waiting before she would even think of writing a short reply, with nothing being given away.

But she shouldn't be interrupted. They knew that she didn't want to be interrupted.

So who had dared to break this?

The door creaked open.

Fred.

The twins were always more likely to interfere. Not that the rest of her brothers didn't try.

Bill and Charlie always made sure to, immediately upon arriving at The Burrow, to go to her room. And they only ever gave her one warning.

Well, really two.

The first was the exclamation that would erupt from the rest of the family when they passed through the back door or Floed in. The second was the knock they would make on her bedroom door before storming in.

Bill and Charlie didn't really care that she didn't answer back when they started a conversation with her. Even the simple nods of her head seemed to be enough for them.

But they only interfered for a short while.

Whether it was due to the fact that she eventually wore them down or the gap between them due to the years affected their common interests, she didn't know, but the conversations only lasted at most for half an hour.

And then they went downstairs again.

Percy barely gave her a glance before he continued on with whatever important work he believed he had to do. Sometimes his stare lasted a bit longer, but he never tried to engage her in any conversations.

He just distanced himself from her.

But the twins were another matter.

If Fred and George were to have their own way, she would play a part in every conversation that ever took place in The Burrow. Her resistance to the amount of times they had attempted to pull her out of her room didn't see to discourage them at all.

She had lost count of how many times they had tried. Though, the complaints she had written in the letters to her friends would probably give her an indication.

'Ginny?'

Maybe the usual glare wasn't going to work this time.

Not that it ever did. She could through every disgruntled expression she knew at them, and it never stopped them.

At one point, she had even gone as far as to threaten. Not that doing so had made it any better. Fred and George had just grabbed her arms and carried her down to the living room.

To endure a special family dinner, as it was the first time that Bill and Charlie had managed to both get leave at the same time.

Special family dinner. What family dinner?

They no longer knew what to say to her, and she didn't care enough to talk to them.

But Fred and George wouldn't give up.

'Ginny?'

Why couldn't they just get the point?

But they never got the point.

Ginny raised her head, her red hair cloaking her face as she stared at where Fred stood.

Only his head was visible, as the rest was hidden by her wooden door, but his face was enough to tell her what kind of mood he was in.

And it wasn't good.

Fred was in one of his hyper moods.

Shit.

Not many people realised that there were various levels to the twins' moods. Most thought that there was simply hyper, and super hyper.

But there were others.

And he was, at this moment, at one of the very bad, for the ones around him, hyper moods.

'Ginny?'

He was just going to get it.

But just because she had admitted that, didn't mean that she was going to answer him. To give him any indication that she had heard him in the first place.

Fred cocked his head.

'You have a little date with our visitors,' he said.

Visitors?

The only ones she knew who were arriving at The Burrow were Ron, Harry and Hermione. And she didn't want to meet them, any more she wanted to be around the rest of the Weasley family.

She felt just as estranged around those three than she did with the rest.

Except there was one difference.

Ron, Harry and Hermione hadn't made such an effort as the others to try and reach out to her.

It wasn't that they didn't try; they did.

But, they did it a different way.

While the rest of the family tried to either give her space, or else kept their arms firmly wrapped around her, those three were completely different.

Other than a few nods of acknowledgement, from Ron and Harry, and small smiles from Hermione, they had pretty much left her alone.

Yet, she had a feeling that they were always near by.

She rarely saw them near her.

When she was at school, they never came near her, other than to sometimes say a few words of greeting.

But, she couldn't help her feeling that they were always close by.

Watching her.

And somehow, it didn't completely un-nerve her.

It was if they were protecting her, in some way.

And, surprisingly, she didn't really mind that they were there for her.

But over the last few weeks, she hadn't felt them near her. She hadn't felt them near her since a month before school ended.

They were no longer there.

They were no longer near by.

Where had they gone?

She had only lightly touched on this in her last letter to her three best friends.

And Mary hadn't even replied on it.

She really hadn't expected Mary to.

Mary would answer when she was ready to answer. And probably after she had talked to Edmond and Liam about the matter.

Though Mary trusted her own judgement, she would not take any of this lightly. But she would know when it was important for something to be a group decision.

And this was one of them.

Mary did have more faith in Ron, Harry and Hermione than Edmond and Liam did.

Edmond believed that it was best that she waited until she had healed further before she added any others to her friend's list.

Not because he didn't trust the three, but simply because he wasn't so sure how well Ginny would be able to handle more knowing her private life. He said it was for her own protection.

And he wouldn't let any of her protests change his views.

He also wasn't so sure how well Ron, Harry and Hermione would handle it.

Liam took another route.

He was against any inclusion of anyone else other than the ones already in their group. Their group of four worked perfectly for all occasions.

They were balanced.

They respected each other.

And they always knew that their opinion mattered.

There was no leader.

There were no passive members.

They were all equal.

Liam believed that they would lose this if Ron, Harry and Hermione were to be brought into their group.

For that was how it would have to work.

If the three were to learn about the life Ginny now led, and to help her recover, they would have to become a member of their group. They would have to become an equal member of the group.

And Liam didn't think that it would work.

Those three were too different, he argued every time it was brought up.

They had their own group. They didn't need to add any to their own group.

Just like their group didn't need Ron, Harry and Hermione to be added.

And it didn't matter how many times it was argued otherwise, Liam would not budge.

This was why it was still being discussed.

It needed to be resolved among their own group before Ron, Harry and Hermione could be approached.

Ginny gave a slight shake of her head.

And she wasn't even sure that it would reach that stage.

'And you can't shake your head this away, Ginny,' cut in the voice of Fred. 'We couldn't get you to come out yesterday, so you have to come out today to see them.'

There was a reason for that.

She hadn't felt like being surrounded by people. She hadn't felt like being surrounded by her family.

And so, she had stayed in her room.

'They are due back in a few hours,' Fred added. 'We are giving you until then to come downstairs.'

Well, now they were back to ultimatums.

She could handle those. She could handle anything like that.

All these years had taught her how to get around those ultimatums.

And Fred hadn't even snapped out his threat yet. So, she had time.

Plenty of time, as Ron, Harry and Hermione weren't to arrive until several hours later.

That meant she could spend a little while longer by herself.

And Fred seemed to think that he had gotten his point across. The door creaked shut as he disappeared back into the hallway.

And Ginny returned her attention to the letter. She still had to answer it.

Figure out how to answer it.

Unfortunately, three hours later and her quill was still scratching back and forth on the parchment. It never took her this long before, as usually ten minutes after receiving a letter from one of her best friends, and as long as the Weasley family were not trying to force her into interacting with them, Ginny would be denting the paper with the force she would apply on it as she allowed herself to vent out most of her feelings.

There was a bit of herself that she even kept from her best friends.

She hadn't even been able to scribble down a sentence in reply, or even the greeting. The piece of parchment in front of her was the first she had grabbed; no crumpled up balls around her feet. She had nothing.

Under her breath, Ginny was muttering swear words to herself about her inability to simply string two words together. It had never taken her so long before.

Throwing her quill onto the floor, Ginny pushed off her chair. This was hopeless. She might as well give up now.

She wasn't going to be able to write a reply now, and she probably wouldn't later. If she was lucky, she would be able to finally send one out before Mary got worried and wrote her another letter.

But what was she going to do until then?

She could, of course, remain in her bedroom, and ignore the ultimatum Fred had given her. He wasn't in the house, as all of her brothers, maybe even Ron as three hours had passed and he could very well had arrived and as usual, didn't announce it to her, gone out to the garden to play Quidditch. That did give her at least until supper before Fred would realise and drag her downstairs, force her into the living room and try and convince her to take part in the family's conversation.

But what would she do if she did stay in her bedroom? Just simply sit on her bed, this piece of parchment before her and a quill twiddled in her hand until Fred stormed in? It wouldn't be the best way to spend her day, even if it was the usual routine, and for once, even she could feel a bit of excitement with the prospect of Ron, Harry and Hermione returning to The Burrow.

Especially as she hadn't seen them since a month before school had ended.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had always been there for her and she had only noticed this after they had disappeared on her. And she wouldn't mind if they were around her again.

Strangely enough.

With that thought, Ginny pulled herself off her bed, spilling the parchment and quill to the ground. Yet she didn't even bother cleaning it up, letting her bedroom door bang close behind her as she stepped into the landing, where she was met with complete silence.

Damn. No one was here. That meant Ron, Harry and Hermione had not arrived.

She was still alone.

But at least she could meet them when the opportunity arose. Not hanging around the kitchen, that would be desperate and she couldn't just launch on them. She wasn't that close to them, and they would need time to adjust to being back in The Burrow.

They always did.

And it was during that time that there seemed to be an uneasy air around the house, and mum seemed to be watching them more than usual. She was always mothering her entire family and any of her children's friends, but it seemed slightly different with Ron, Harry and Hermione. Why, she didn't know, but for some reason…

Maybe it was because of all the trouble they managed to get themselves into every year. Maybe the simple fact that the three always seemed to end up nearly getting themselves killed at least once by the end of the school year was the reason why they were given an extra watchful eye from her mum. The extra worrying they caused her was why they earned special attention.

Yet, Ginny felt that there was more to it than that.

Sometimes, there seemed to be some kind of understanding passed between her mum and those three. A look that meant more than a warning, or a nod of approval. But what exactly that was, Ginny didn't know.

But somehow those three knew the difference.

And she knew that it was important whatever it was. That this meant something more than her mum simply looking out for the three of them.

That was the reason why Ginny had started to watch Ron, Harry and Hermione out of the corner of her eye, to see if she could see this. Much to the annoyance of her friends, Ginny found herself wanting to know what was going on around them.

Ginny had always felt watched by those three, and she had never allowed herself to be caught up in their adventures. She knew that they were always keeping an eye on her, but sometimes, Ginny felt that on purpose they made sure to be extremely secretive so that she wouldn't catch on to whatever they were planning. As if they were scared Ginny might figure out something she shouldn't.

As if she was too close to them and could be more of a threat than anyone else.

But why would she be a threat? The close relationship she used to have with Ron had nearly shrivelled into nothing. She had lost that bond the two used to have before her first year at Hogwarts. What remained, was a mere shadow of what used to be.

Even if she was closer to him than any of her other siblings.

Ginny sighed.

Sometimes she truly wished to return to her childhood, but then the memories of what had happened to her would overtake her once more. She used to be innocent, but upon her first year, Ginny couldn't look back at her old life without contempt. She knew now that she had been idiotic to think that her life would continue along the same thread as her first ten years of life. There was no possibility of that happening to her; happening to anybody.

Her first year had been a wake-up call.

But maybe that wake-up call had only been to her and her older siblings, excluding Ron. When she had been held up in the Hospital Wing after being freed from the Secret Chamber of Salazar Slytherin, Ginny had felt as though that she had been visited by the three for a different reason than to try and make sense of what had happened to her. Her entire memory of her stay in the Hospital Wing was hazy at best, but still, she had a slight remembrance of Ron, Harry and Hermione sitting by her bed at one point.

And she had a vague memory that the three of them had had a strange look in their eyes.

It wasn't pity. It wasn't the red tint from hours spent crying.

It was a mournful glint in their eyes.

Harry or Hermione never visited Ginny when Ginny had been able to finally gather her thoughts and go through a few hours before being forced into a drug-induced sleep. Ron was sometimes by her side, but only when another member of her family was there. He never came to see her by himself.

And that was what had started the distance between them.

Yet, even though she knew that Ron was the only one not showing her how he felt, Ginny had felt that this barrier meant that he somehow understood how she felt. Somehow.

Ginny gave a shake of her head.

This just kept going round and round in her head. Popping into her mind in so many different versions that it wasn't until near the end of the thought that Ginny would realise that she was thinking of it again. She couldn't answer the question.

She couldn't figure out how and why she was so close to Ron and what it had to do with her first year.

The sound of the creaky floorboard on the ground floor jolted her from her thoughts.

During the old argument in her thought as she tried to figure out that old problem once more, Ginny had travelled down to the living room. She paused, leaning gently against the banisters.

She was never going to come to an understanding about this problem. She shouldn't even bother trying to figure it out. It was too much of a waste of time and effort.

And Liam was annoyed enough with her about even trying to think of it.

A bang.

Ginny's head shot up as she glanced over at the kitchen. The staircase blocked any view of it, yet Ginny was already hoping against hope that it would not be who she thought it could be.

If that was Fred he was going to give her Hell. That was one of the few things that had not changed. Fred took his role as her older brother very seriously. Not that the rest didn't either. Every now and then, one of them would give out to her, as if everything was back to before she was eleven and she was still their annoying baby sister who had enough blackmail on all six of them to get each and every single one of them to be punished by mum for months on end. And it was then that even she couldn't fight back against her wish to return to some kind of normalcy. Not the innocence of before, but the usual life for any young witch.

Even she could still wish.

And as Fred was probably the one in the kitchen, it meant that she wouldn't be able to return upstairs without alerting him to her presence on the ground floor. Fred might not have heard her as she had made her way downstairs, but it would undoubtedly only take one creak of a floorboard and Fred would jump her. He would drag her back down and force her to remain with him.

Ginny sighed.

Though, there was the slight problem that Fred hadn't pulled her out of her bedroom earlier. Well, maybe not a problem, but more of a slight inconsistency. Fred wouldn't go back on his word, and he would definitely not forget to bring her out.

Something was wrong.

All of Ginny's desire to be left alone flew out of the window as she scurried across the living room, only to nearly trip over her own feet. The sight of three forms, clothed in long black robes sitting around the kitchen table, would do that to anyone, and for Ginny, it made her heart stop.

Logically, she knew that it was impossible for Death Eaters to simply walk into The Burrow, the special wards placed around the house and its grounds meant only the ones recognised as family to the Weasleys would be able to pass them without the approval of a Weasley member and not a single trace of them being forced. Yet, to see the three of them there…

'Don't think this is a heavy enough book,' one of the forms muttered, their sleeves long enough to cover any skin.

Ron? But that couldn't be. Ron would never need to…

But if that was Ron, then-

'And it barely touches on the information we need,' said another male's voice.

'It was the only one they would allow us to bring,' said a female. 'Remember the weight restrictions?'

Harry? Hermione?

What in Merlin's name-?

'Don't know why they were complaining so much,' said the first. 'It's not as if they were the ones needing to carry everything back here.'

The softest of sighs from the third, before they gave a shrug.

'You know as well as I do,' the third said, 'that with the way all of them carry on, they would argue with anything we do, did or will do.'

The softest snorts of laughter from the second.

'Half the reason why I think we should liven things up,' said the first.

The second and third forms promptly banged their fists against the kitchen table.

'Ron!' hissed the second, as laughter escaped from the three of them.


	5. Chapter 5

Ron Weasley couldn't stop himself from running his hand through his hair. At one point, actually several weeks before, he had sworn that he would finally get his hair cut. Short hair was best when there was a need for it to not get in the way of his eyes, or irritate his skin, and he was fast becoming the scraggly looking version of Bill with various locks hanging over his face. Yet, just like Harry, Seamus, Neville and Dean, Ron hadn't been given the chance to cast the special Severing Charm, and as such, he, just like the other four, had been throwing annoyed looks at Hermione as she simply wrapped her long hair into a bun. An efficient and very feminine looking way of keeping hair out of her way.

Unfortunately, they couldn't copy this. Or at least, not without being given strange looks.

But luckily for the five, Hermione didn't seem to be taking any notice of them, and when she did, she simply made a remark about how she liked their 'don't know the meaning of a brush' look and had ruffled Dean's hair, the closest one to her at the time. And even though Dean had promptly tried to curse her, they all had a temper, it was just that Hermione showed hers more often, it hadn't stopped Hermione from tugging at his locks several hours later. And just like the first time, his spells had missed her.

Ron smiled.

Only then had they been interrupted by Moody, thumping into the room as he growled under his breath about the lot of them were being treated like 'babies' and that a good sound running session around the Hogwarts grounds would solve their 'constant whining'. Hermione sent him a glare, before, with a gentle tap on her hip, she had walked out of the room, grabbing her black cloak as she did so. Even Moody, with his refusal to deal with anything involving emotion, knew that moments of his issued threat, Hermione would have thought up of a way to show him exactly what it was like to be forced to be around young kids and their 'tantrums'. It would be Moody's best bet to disappear for a while, or at least find a location or a few locations where Hermione couldn't reach him so that she would be forced to delay her rebuttal, and maybe by that time, he would have thought of a way to avoid it completely.

This was one of the reasons why, upon Ron and Harry arriving at The Burrow and positioning themselves in the kitchen, they were trying to cheer Hermione up in the only way they knew, by resorting to what she termed as juvenile and annoying behaviour. For her sake at least though, Dean, Seamus and Neville weren't here to add to the mayhem, but that didn't stop her constant groans as Harry and he on purpose made a big deal about bringing out one of the few books they were allowed to bring to The Burrow from their own private study, especially upon Harry bringing up one of the issues that had been plaguing them since they had first acquired the book. It was extremely light on certain matters that the six of them needed to broaden their horizons on, without, of course, letting the Masters know what they were up to.

'So when is the next one?' said Hermione, as she, once again, placed a hand over the pages as she muttered a spell under her breath.

Ron felt the corners of his lips twitch as the sight of Hermione performing an act that would earn her more than disapproving looks from the Masters if she was to be caught. Not that he or Harry were going to allow for such a thing to be noticed, as even though it was only Aunt Molly or Uncle Arthur Weasley they had to worry about, as Aunt Molly Weasley had assured them that there was no one else in the house, other than Ginny, who had yet to be dragged out.

And then his grin faded.

He knew that the entire family felt responsible for what had happened to their only sister, yet what truly hurt was the simple fact that they had no hand in the near death of Ginny. The six of them did.

It wasn't Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred or George who hadn't pushed the Masters upon the first sign that something was wrong during their second year at Hogwarts, especially on the entire issue of Ginny. The feeling that something bad was on its way to interfere with their life had not begun when Harry had his first encounter with Dobby and the explanation of the missing letters, as he had explained to Fred and George, but the entire issue of when the six had been travelling back to the Muggle World after their first year at Hogwarts, in separate compartments of course, was when the feeling of 'something wrong' had crept over the six of them. And that horrible dread had only overtaken them because of the last words that had been spoken to Harry by Dumbledore, that had not been the usual pleasantries, was 'Alas, earwax' (1).

Dumbledore had uttered those words about the entire matter of his popping a Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans into his mouth, only to discover that he had taken an ill chosen one. Harry had told the five of them the entire conversation, word by word, but each of them had missed the significance of those words and as such had allowed it to pass on to ones outside of their group of six. Bare bits of it of course, as that talk had been the exchange of matters that could not be known outside of their group of six and their Masters. The importance of 'to a well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure' (2) was one of them. And that hadn't been realised until after the six had settled themselves in their two compartments and were talking among themselves.

They still couldn't understand exactly how they had missed it in the first place. Ron had the faint idea that their first public Mission was what had caused the delay in their processing part of their brain, and how the entire matter of the Mission going completely haywire, due to the leak to the public. It was supposed to simply follow as all the other Missions they had gone on, small little Tasks that helped the Order of the Phoenix, which was to most of the old members, still disbanded after the First War Against Lord Voldemort, had always remained private. No one outside of their Masters knew of what they got up to, and this had been the first Mission where they had completely failed, and nearly the entire Mission had become public knowledge, as they all knew that once the student body returned to their homes, the students would spread the word to the Wizarding Community.

It had shaken them.

And it was only by their fifth year had this nervousness finally been almost quenched. Any Missions they carried out, still small after all these years as the Masters refused to let them take part in anything that would put them directly in the line of the Death Eaters, or on any that would cause suspicion with the members of the Order of the Phoenix who didn't know about them, and the reason why they had, on purpose, this year, decided to take all of it into their own hands, no longer made them worry about what was perceived by the ones outside of their own group and the Masters. It was one of the reasons why it had been insisted that they remain at Hogwarts, all six of them, with each being given a cover story and none outside were allowed to realise that there was six of them being forced to stay.

'Ron?' whispered Harry.

Hermione hand was still hovering over the pages, the pink glow still being emitted from the book, but her eyes had drifted from the information she was soaking from within it, and was staring at him. Those enquiring eyes were what had drawn him to Hermione when he had first met her all those years ago; that thirst for knowledge that could always be noticed simply by staring into her eyes and then experienced upon living around her. To most, that quirk was one of Hermione's annoying parts of her personality, but to Ron and the other four boys, it was something that made Hermione, Hermione.

And besides, what did any of those people have to complain about, they didn't live with her.

'Come on Ron,' said Harry, 'tell Hermione when the next one is.'

Ron's eyes slipped over to Harry, who was sitting across from him. Harry's emotions were on display for the other two to see, just as Ron knew his was. It wouldn't have mattered if they were still covered head to toe with the special black robes they used when they were with the Masters, the other two would have always been able to see exactly what the third was feeling. Though, Ron missed, just as he knew the other five did, the feeling of being completely clothed in the robes; the safety it brought with it. No one could recognise them, other than the Masters and only if the Masters were watching carefully for their particular movements, and they could allow the barriers to fall and act the way they wanted to act. To be their true persona. Those robes were the key objects to their true personality, and it was rare when they weren't with the Masters and clothed in those robes.

Hermione's mouth was twitching, the small amount of air that was escaping from in between her lips causing him to look back at her.

'Come on, this is one of the few times I am every going to admit it,' said Hermione, as she leant over the table, her body pushing the book further away from her, and wrapped her arms across her chest, 'I was not listening to the Masters the last time they were speaking to us as I had more important matters on my mind.'

Ron could feel the smile creep over his face. He knew that it took very little to distract Hermione when she wished to be stubborn, and with the little problem of arguing with the Masters over whether or not they would be allowed to go to The Burrow, and then watching as Aunt Molly gave 'McGonegall', and then 'Flitwick' a piece of her mind had caused Hermione to ignore all that was going around her. Hermione no doubt felt that there were better things to think about then watch the Masters argue among themselves, as she was safe in the knowledge that 'McGonegall' and 'Flitwick' would lose, and Aunt Molly would ultimately win.

'Such as?' said the soft voice of Harry.

And Harry had that same smirk.

But Ron knew that Hermione wouldn't take offence to their grins. She knew exactly who they were directed to, and it was definitely not her.

So why should she care?

'Such as,' said Hermione, as a new light sparked life into her eyes, 'the little matter that since The Hingely Incident, the Masters have thought that they can simply keep our questions at bay by refusing to be in any room long enough with us to.'

Ah, they had been wondering when Hermione would be able to think up of a plan to pay the Masters back for their latest problems that they had thrusted upon us, only one being that they refused to answer our questions. It was a pity that it was only now, after they had left Hogwarts that she had managed to bring her plan together, but that would be quickly resolved as it would only take a few hours before the other three would know. And then the plan could be tweaked so that it would actually work, taking out any of the points that were only in there due to Hermione's anger, before being set into motion.

'And what have you schemed since our last confrontation with the Masters over it?' said Harry.

That glint in Hermione's eyes had only become colder. Ron knew that behind Hermione's façade of being a bookworm, in complete control unless the matter of rights or academic pursuits were brought up, was a girl who could calculate without a second thought, a new way to embarrass someone. Hermione refused to back down from a challenge, especially if it involved revenge, unless given a good enough reason, and that had to be one that she could believe. She had proven it time and time before, and Ron knew that if she were to ever team up with Fred or George, the Masters would find their lives becoming a living hell.

The Masters were probably already dreading that day when the six could act the way they naturally did around everyone, instead of only around the Masters.

Hermione flashed them her own smile, her teeth being exposed long enough for Ron to remember exactly what Hermione was capable of. All witches and wizards did say, after all, that the Animigus form of any, was a true form of them.

'Wouldn't you like to know,' she whispered.

Hermione gave them a wink, as Ron had to force himself from not grabbing her by the sides and pushing her into his body in order to gain full control of her body. Her body melded perfectly into his, as did hers with any of the other four, and no matter how much she might try to fight, Hermione wouldn't be able to escape if he managed to curl her into his body. At least then he might be able to find out exactly what she was plotting, before she set everything into motion. Ron would like to know what he was going to be punished for before it started. A rare feat, but Ron would at least like to make an attempt.

'And I am sure that I won't be forced to take certain measures in order to maintain it as such,' said Hermione, 'now do I?'

'No, no,' said Harry, shaking his head, 'there are too many objects in this room that you can easily use to form a weapon of sorts to use against us. I would rather, if you do not mind, keep all I possess, mentally and physically.'

It was one of the smallest smiles Ron had ever seen, but one he frequently saw, especially when they were in the company of Masters and supposed to be listening to the words being used to tell them off. Even with all of the Master's discipline, it was hard to not crack a grin when something funny was exchanged, and so, each had developed a way of letting their laughter show, without anyone outside of the group guessing. These small smiles.

'If you have any left,' cut in the voice of Aunt Molly.

Another one of those smiles were exchanged, as out of the corner of their eyes they watched Aunt Molly stroll past them, a large wicker basket on her arm with various delights poking out from underneath the cloth she had placed on top of it. Obviously, another one of her constant complaints to the Masters was to be rectified as she best as she could, and which meant that they would be hounded for the next couple of weeks until she finally viewed them as bearing enough evidence of meeting her own personal approval of the entire matter. It was to no surprise to see her not even bother putting the parcels away, but placing them on the counter as she Accioed several plates over to her. No, they weren't going to get away from this, as Aunt Molly seemed to have decided to ignore the little fact that the three of them had eaten a snack before they had left Hogwarts, and had been given a meal when they had arrived at The Burrow, specially prepared for them by Aunt Molly herself.

'Healed,' spoke up Harry, 'and we were passed by the therapist, Aunt Molly.'

Aunt Molly gave a soft snort as she ripped off the wrapper of one of these foods, and allowed several biscuits to land on each of the plates.

'Gallivanting around,' Aunt Molly muttered, 'with the little promise of always having healers to look after your physical self and a therapist to help you mentally.'

'We had to do something,' said Ron.

And it wasn't as if any of the therapists the Masters sent us were any good. They all had a hundred different theories about Mione's anger problem, of exactly why each of us had a never-ending Death Wish. Of why none of us blinked when we were facing danger anymore.

'Just because you believed that the Masters were not doing enough,' said Aunt Molly, 'did not mean that you were given enough reason to try and take care of the situation yourself.'

'Someone had to do something about Bellatrix,' said Hermione, 'and the Masters were simply twiddling their thumbs.'

'Everyone thinks she is dead,' said Harry.

'The Masters know,' said Aunt Molly, 'as do The Order.'

'Big help that is,' said Hermione.

Aunt Molly dumped three rolls onto their plates, before Banishing a plate to settle before each one of them.

'Does that mean the Masters have told The Order about Azkaban?' said Harry.

If the Masters had any sense, they would have by now. As talented as the Masters were at lying, especially to ones who trusted them with their lives, undoubtedly at some point, one of them would make a mistake and lose that trust. The entire War could be lost simply by the Masters refusing to be honest to the ones they needed. None of us could pretend that little white lies were unnecessary, but it was the lengths the Masters were willing to go with it that would bring about their own downfall.

'The Order is aware of what truly happened in Azkaban,' said Aunt Molly. 'Now eat.'

Without a word, Ron, Harry and Hermione picked up one of the buns filled with various meats, lettuce and tomatoes. They knew better than to protest, as Aunt Molly had, more than once, placed a spell on their food to make it bob annoyingly next to their mouth until they took a bite. And, she had, since they were very little, attached a special Charm to them to make them unable to move from the table until they had eaten all of the food placed in front of them. None of them were going to go through that again, or give Aunt Molly a chance to even think of it.

'When is The Daily Prophet due?' mumbled Harry, as with a flick of his hand he moved the butter, cheese and pickles onto the table.

Ron rolled his eyes.

With all of his years at the Dursleys, Harry had learnt many strange and poisonness ways to eat leftovers. Always depending on what was left in the cupboards after the Dursley family had retreated to their beds, Harry would pick anything he could find and make odd concoctions from them in order to get food into his stomach. And every now and then, he would remind all of them of it.

'It came in two hours before,' said Aunt Molly. 'I believe Charlie has it.'

'Great,' said Ron. 'Never get to see it now.'

The entire family knew about Charlie's little quirks on the paper, one of which was to wander off to some recluse spot around The Burrow and read the newspaper, whichever one he managed to get his hands on. By the time he finally returned, the newspaper would have been mislaid somewhere, never to be seen again as Charlie couldn't even remember where he had put it.

The latest Daily Prophet was lost already.

'Do you think he might notice the little extra in there?' said Hermione.

She was looking up at Aunt Molly through her little locks of hair, but Ron knew better than to think that she was being anything but innocent. Hermione only adopted that kind of look around the Masters or any of the older members of The Order that knew truly her when she was being the exact opposite.

And Aunt Molly knew that.

'And what might be in the Daily Prophet?' she said.

Exactly. What might be in the Daily Prophet? What had Mione put in the Daily Prophet?

Not that they were going to admit that. The Masters usually punished them as a whole, even if only one of them was responsible. And even if they didn't know why they were being punished.

'I don't know,' said Hermione, with a little shrug, 'I just happened to overhear something about a _little extra _being added to it, that's all.'

'And what was that little extra?' said Aunt Molly.

'I am afraid that I only heard the bare-end of it,' said Hermione, as she gave the slightest of bows of head, 'and I would be unable to recall any more.'

Ha. Mione wasn't fooling anyone. All of them knew, even Aunt Molly, that Mione was aware of exactly what was being spoken of, as she did have a perfect memory of any conversations she was within hearing distance of. Except she had decided to be difficult.

So, nothing would be known until one of them managed to get their hands on the Daily Prophet.

'I'll head into the village,' spoke up Harry, with only the slightest of glints in his green eyes. 'I believe I would be able to scrounge one up.'

'You are not borrowing one!' said Aunt Molly, the stare that could make any of her children scatter bearing down on the three of them.

Except, along with numerous occasions when the six had had to be under the watchful glare of the other Masters, and as such had learned ways of building up resistance to the intensity, the same had been created against Aunt Molly. Harry could meet her eyes, unflinchingly as his mind searched for a way to defer her anger, and hopefully make it so that it would dwindle away enough that another matter could be brought before her. And as all of them had discovered that if another subject was cleverly slipped into the conversation, it usually was enough for Aunt Molly to turn her mind to it and give them all a breather.

It was after all, only giving them a breather when they managed to divert Aunt Molly's attention. It was given, for all of them, that Aunt Molly had a good memory, of what they had done, nearly done and what they could have done, and could bring it together in the time it took her eyes to spark enough that she could begin her tirade on that matter. Nothing they did would ever be forgotten, so the time bought was precious minutes, or days if they were lucky, when they could re-group their own thoughts and have a steady plan for when the subject was next spoken of.

With only the slightest of drops of his right shoulder, Harry replied, 'I would never dream of borrowing one from someone who would expect it back.'

Aunt Molly's eyes narrowed, as Ron sent the message to Harry to lighten his words. Otherwise, Aunt Molly might realise exactly what Harry meant by picking up a Daily Prophet. It certainly wasn't by waiting until the closest Wizarding family, who happened to be the Diggereys, had finished with their paper, as Aunt Molly was surmising, but by another method. One, that none of the Masters were ever supposed to know about as they did not need to have the Masters causing up a stir about exactly how they had their own method of having the latest Daily Prophet at their disposal.

'The only one who has access to the Daily Prophet is several towns away,' Aunt Molly said, 'I will not have you traipsing across the countryside when you are injured.'

'We were cleared by the Healers,' said Ron.

The entire subject on their health had been discussed, to great length, by the Masters numerous times. The six of them hadn't been present when most of the arguments had taken place, the Masters didn't seem to think that it was relevant for them to know, but that hadn't stopped them from using certain methods to find out what were each of the Master's views.

And none of it had been very helpful. Not for their cause of getting out of Hogwarts anyway. Each Master had their own idea of exactly what the six of them should be allowed to get up to, after Ron, Harry, Hermione, Seamus, Dean and Neville had disobeyed the Masters' orders and had taken the matter into their own hands. None of the Masters had been impressed, and seemed to have used the amount of time the six needed to recover as a method of punishing them.

'But that does not mean you were cleared to go walking for miles on end,' said Aunt Molly.

With a hissed word, the food re-arranged itself so that there was even more on their plates, a sure sign of the state of Aunt Molly's mind and none of them were going to bring up the discussion on their food intake again. There was already one battle being fought, though it was truthfully more of a will of minds, them against Aunt Molly, and they didn't need to add a second.

'Or Apparate!' cut in Aunt Molly.

Hermione closed her mouth as the corner of her mouth gave a twitch.

It had always been a possibility for them; to use one method of travel that the Masters had insisted on them learning at a very young age in case there ever was a need for them to escape from Death Eaters, as the Masters still refused to let them fight. To the Masters, the best method at the moment for whenever any of them were confronted with Death Eaters were to simply run away, even if they felt that this was hurting their pride. The Masters refused to let this be used as a reason for exactly why the six should be allowed to stand their ground, no matter how much they argued. Or in the case of them, especially Hermione, threatened.

And they were in enough trouble without Aunt Molly realising exactly how any of them would acquire the Daily Prophet, as Aunt Molly would be more than happy to add what Hermione was up to, to the mix. Maybe it would be possible to 'simply disappear' for a few hours, before one of the Weasley siblings came upon them, and see exactly what Hermione had done this time. The other five couldn't condone it unless they knew what Hermione had added.

'Now Aunt Molly,' said Harry, 'would we dare make another attempt after we have just managed to escape from Hogwarts.'

Aunt Molly's eyes narrowed upon hearing the word, escape, though they all knew that she could hardly argue against it. Whenever something went wrong, and it undoubtedly would, during a Mission, their interfering and so on, the six would be forced to journey to Hogwarts, where they would be dealt with by 'Dumbledore' or 'McGonegall' and ultimately banished to one of the far and unknown rooms of the building where they would be told to remain until one of the Masters sent for them. And it wasn't always a room where they could entertain themselves until the Masters wanted to have 'words' with them. Aunt Molly was always one of the few Masters who protested against the amount of time the six were 'grounded' in Hogwarts, arguing that much more could be accomplished if they were to be sent to The Burrow, as then they could at least study, or get fresh air where they didn't have to worry about one of the creatures of the Forbidden Forest attacking them. The rest of the Masters disagreed, pointing out that at The Burrow, there was always the chance of one of them being seen by the Weasley siblings.

To Harry, Ron, Hermione, Dean, Seamus and Neville though, the various reasons the Masters gave for the entire truth to be held from the Weasley siblings was quickly disappearing, and if the entire matter didn't improve, they were going to take it into their own hands, even if the Masters didn't approve. They were tired enough with the lies they had to spin and the truths they had to manipulate, and the Weasley siblings did have a right to know. As did several others, but the rules the Masters held over the six Weasley children, applied to the two wizards as well.

'When you are this bone weary,' said Aunt Molly, giving a little sniff to tell us exactly how she felt about why we were, 'none of you are able to make rational decisions.'

Hermione snorted.

Ron felt that it probably wasn't a good idea to remind Aunt Molly that they had pulled off harder plans, with less sleep and worse muscle strain, after only giving themselves a few moments to prepare themselves, and gave Hermione one of the stares that meant –Don't push it, us managing to be allowed outside today is enough of a victory- The stare back was anything but friendly, but Ron had a feeling that Hermione would obey this one. She couldn't exactly argue against that, as Aunt Molly had yet to ban them from going outside, but if they were to push the point, then Aunt Molly might decide otherwise. They did not need another restriction on their movements, as the only other place where they could be guaranteed peace and quiet was in Ron's room, and they still could be disturbed there. The rest of the Weasley siblings knew that they could find the three there.

They were just lucky that the rest of the Weasley siblings had yet to see them.

'Now I want the three of you to go the garden and to rest,' said Aunt Molly, using her wand to push the food closer to them, 'in the shade. And you are to bring all of the food with you.'

'But we've eaten,' said Hermione, directing her glare towards Aunt Molly.

Harry gave her a poke with his hand, only to be ignored. Hermione obviously wasn't in the mood, and instead of keeping all of her anger for the next time she saw the rest of the Masters, and subsequently playing the prank on them, had decided to use it against Aunt Molly. A very bad move. Aunt Molly wasn't like the rest of the Masters, and not because she was his mum. Aunt Molly usually fought for their rights, to stop the Masters from making them complete fighters with not even a trace of childhood. She was the one who made sure they had their holidays, no matter how dire a situation might be that the Masters needed them to take care of, and was the one who had insisted that they have The Burrow become their second home.

'Barely five bites,' said Aunt Molly, 'and don't try to pretend that you ate more as I have been keeping an eye on you. And you certainly barely ate anything when I served you that meal when you first arrived.'

'We ate everything on our plate,' said Harry, and that small smile was back.

That smile was only there to indicate that he was taking care of Hermione's words, to try and ease the mistake that she had just made. And a mistake it was, as though Aunt Molly was one of their favourite Masters, mostly because she was usually fighting for their side, Aunt Molly did not take it well when any one of her six 'children', as she viewed Harry, Hermione, Seamus, Dean, Neville and him, tried to argue against her will to mother them, and that included against protesting against what she thought was best for them. That usually included Aunt Molly and her need to feed them, as she believed that they never ate enough during their school year, and when the six of them were involved in a Mission, food became at the very back of their list of priorities, and though all of them had quickly learned to not argue, when Hermione was in a mood, her sense seemed to fly out of the window.

Literally. Hermione's instincts after losing an argument by words, was to start cursing everything that was moveable in order to prove her point. It was one of the few points of 'Moody's' behaviour that Hermione seemed to have picked up on, as the rest was simply too 'tasteless' for her.

'You placed almost all the food I put on your plate back into the pots,' said Aunt Molly, wagging a finger at them, 'and don't say that you didn't. I checked those pots and I know I gave you more than what remained.'

Ron stole a glance at Hermione, the main reason why most of the food had been returned to the cooking pots in the first place, as it had been her idea and her main protest against what had been placed in front of them. Not that he and Harry hadn't agreed that they would never be able to finish the meal, but Hermione had insisted on what was viewed as the most dramatic response to it by putting the food back. Hermione hadn't been able to argue against the fact that Aunt Molly would notice, but she had argued that it would at least take until the next time she tried to give them a meal before it would be brought up. Well, she was right on that point, but that meant that Aunt Molly would now be on the warpath.

Not that Hermione seemed to be concerned, hiding behind one of her 'innocent' facades in order to not let Aunt Molly know angry she was, though Hermione's voice would more than give her away.

'Then since you have managed to check-mate us,' said Hermione, flickering her eyes once over us, 'we will allow you to give us our orders.'

Hermione almost managed to keep the 'tone' from her voice, though the fact that she used a term of chess, a game she termed as 'pointless' upon our group first being introduced to it by 'Flitwick', who had noticed that the wall of the Hospital Wing wouldn't take another round of 'Boredom Ball', ruined it. It was a game we had invented after the seventh time when were eight we had been hurt badly enough to be forced to rest in the Hospital Wing. We had been hauled there to be under 'Madame Pomphrey', not because of a prank go wrong, or training, but because the tree house we were trying to build in one of the trees on the edge of The Forbidden Forest had collapsed, taking us with it. There had been an assortment of wounds for 'Madame Pomphrey' to take care of, and she was not happy with us, resulting in extra days added to the amount of rest we needed and therefore causing us to have to think of something to do while we were stuck in our special room. Yet the spontaneity of the 'Boredom Ball' game being invented had resulted in the walls of the Hospital Wing becoming chipped, and with the anger of 'Madame Pomphrey' growing each time she caught us, it had been 'Flitwick' who had decided to take the matter into his own hands, as the talks 'McGonegall' kept giving us each and every time were proving worthless, and had introduced us to chess.

The five of us had taken quite a liking to it, though I was the only one who could actually win the games continuously, but Hermione had disliked it from the very beginning. She called it every name under the sun, and more, whenever we tried to interest her in a match. The most we could do was get her to watch, though she usually buried herself into a book, cursing us under her breath every time we became too loud for her to properly concentrate on what she was reading. Or, that's what Hermione would say anyway.

'My orders are for you to find yourselves a nice place, on The Burrow grounds,' said Aunt Molly, 'and for you to eat and relax. And I want none of you to do anything but de-stress yourselves until suppertime. That will be at the usual time.'

So, we had until half-seven to pick up The Daily Prophet, as Harry wasn't going to go on this little excursion alone. Not when there was a good chance of being 'alone', from the Masters and from Aunt Molly and Uncle Arthur who had been keeping an eye on their lives. They would be able to have a few hours by themselves, even if it was only a few hours.

'Very well,' said Harry, giving Hermione's arm another poke. 'We'll be out of your hair in no time.'

'Out of my hair,' Aunt Molly said with a snort. 'None of you will be out of my hair until I have personally received a proclamation from Merlin himself that the six of you will stay out of trouble.'

Ron felt his right eyebrow rise at that. There was an extremely small chance that even Merlin would ever bother writing anything that Aunt Molly would find acceptable. Aunt Molly had a very high standard on what she viewed as the reasons for when she wouldn't worry about them. As of this moment, this was the first time Aunt Molly had ever voiced what she would find acceptable.

Gripping Hermione's arm, Harry pulled Hermione out of her seats as Ron decided to deal with the amount of food Aunt Molly was expecting them to eat. With the help of the basket that Aunt Molly had brought the food in with, Ron Banished all of it back in before muttering a Feather Charm onto the basket in order to be able to carry it all.

This was met with little disapproval.

'And keep the spells to a minimum!' said Aunt Molly as she turned to watch them leave the kitchen. 'You may have permission to use magic, but you must keep it from other's eyes.'

Ron, Harry and Hermione exchanged several meaningful glances at those words. If they had any say in it, the Weasley siblings would have grown up knowing about the special circumstances around the six of them. They wouldn't have thought twice if they saw Hermione, Harry, Seamus, Dean, Neville or himself in their long black cloaks, or doing magic during the summer months when the rest of the under-age Wizarding population were not allowed to. But the Masters refused to let this be so.

'At least for now,' said Aunt Molly, her voice softer. 'Don't worry, I will not let this continue for much longer.'

And considering how much of a force Aunt Molly was when she was arguing with the other Masters about the amount of holidays they were going to be allowed, or their intake of food, then the matter on her other children was going to be ferocious. There had already been several smaller spats ever since the other Masters had made the decision, all those years ago, but it was all leading to one that would rock the boat and erupt in the Master's face.

And the six of us had already arranged that we would be there, with front row seats, when Aunt Molly finally blew up.

With the shutting of the kitchen door, the bottom half of it anyway, Harry, Hermione and he gave each other another look. Though they didn't wish to leave Aunt Molly when she was in this kind of mood, the subject of the rest of her children knowing the truth always brought her mood down and caused her to over-work herself with housework, the little chance to be out on their own was glimmering in the back of their minds. They so badly wanted to be given freedom, but with Aunt Molly like this, and the problem that the rest of the Weasley children wouldn't be able to help her in the way she needed to be, as they couldn't know why she was down in the first place, it made them think twice.

'Should we leave her?' Hermione said softly.

The anger and coldness in her voice had disappeared, leaving only the slightest hint of warmth to remain. It would take a few more hours before the annoyance Hermione felt towards the Elders would dissolve for her compassion to win through and for Hermione to think of anything but what she viewed as the 'injustice' of it all.

'No,' said Harry, 'but we must remember that this isn't the first time we have been faced with this kind of situation.'

And those were the words they could use to simply follow out their wish to have a few hours to themselves. There had been many instances over their lives when they had been left with a moral dilemma, ones that usually involved the two people that they actually considered to be their actual family, Aunt Molly and Uncle Arthur. It all depended on their moods on which decision they made, as though they viewed Aunt Molly and Uncle Arthur as their actual relatives, that didn't mean that in their minds, the six of them had come first. It was a hard lesson they had learned early in life, that they could only depend on this group of six, and no one else. The six were the only ones who wouldn't let you down.

The Masters did that too regularly.

'What did we do last time?' Ron muttered.

The softest of snorts.

'We _alerted _Ginny that Aunt Molly wasn't feeling the best,' said Hermione, 'and left it to her.'

Ah, that wouldn't have boded well. Ginny knew how to deal with the various problems her family faced, but as the mood Aunt Molly faced wouldn't be due to a usual one, it would be beyond Ginny. How would Ginny be able to cheer Aunt Molly up when she couldn't even know the reason why her mum was so miserable in the first place? Leaving Ginny to look after Aunt Molly was a complete avoidance of the loyalty they had towards Aunt Molly and Uncle Arthur, and they shouldn't do it again. But…

'Would there be a point of informing Ginny again?' said Harry.

'Maybe not,' said Ron. 'Not with the way she's feeling at the moment.'

'Feeling?' said Hermione, raising an eyebrow. 'You haven't even seen her yet.'

Ron shrugged.

'No,' he said.

Ron knew that he was being given one of those looks from Harry and Hermione, but he wasn't going to look up. Ron wasn't going to give them the few extra clues they needed to know exactly what was going on in his brain.

'Ronald,' said Hermione in a low voice, 'the Masters banned us from using that, remember?'

There was no need for Hermione to use that tone. Ron knew that the Masters had told the entire group that they weren't allowed to use that spell in order to…

'We are well aware of that,' spoke up Harry.

Hermione turned her stare onto him. Harry simply stared back.

'And exactly what did you find?' Hermione said.

Ron raised his head to look at her.

'What?' said Hermione. 'You have already done it, and you must have had a reason. So, what did you find out about Ginny?'

Ron exchanged a glance with Harry.

Hermione wasn't the easiest to understand at the best of times, but every now and then, just when one of the group had thought that they had finally figured out a part of her, Hermione would do something completely uncharacteristic. This seemed to be one of those times. Hermione usually wasn't this complacent. She usually argued, or at least pretended to be annoyed at what they had done. And the disagreement lasted at least twenty minutes. But this time?

'I am not going to repeat myself,' said Hermione. 'What did you find?'

Oh-oh. Hermione had that tone. And it didn't seem that she was going to save her anger for the Masters. Oh no, they were too easy a target for her. And she might even unleash the growing temper that was due for Moody on them.

'Ginny's sunk to a new low,' said Harry. 'She's received an owl from one of her friends.'

'Good news from her friend?' said Hermione.

'I would guess so,' said Ron, 'though she didn't reply.'

Hermione raised the other eyebrow.

'Did she send any reply?' said Hermione.

'Uh,' said Harry, 'no.'

An intake of breath.

'At all?' said Hermione.

Ron shook his head.

A pause.

Ron and Harry exchanged a glance, careful to keep one eye on Hermione who had sunk her heads into the palms of her hand as she stared ahead of her with a blank look.

'Maybe we should stay in The Burrow,' Hermione said.

Ron and Harry stopped, moving beside each other as they watched Hermione wearily. She didn't look as though she was going to throw a spell, or attack them physically. But that was the secret with Hermione, she could fool anyone, even one of the group, into thinking that she was going to do the exact opposite of what she had planned. There was a reason why the entire group, and the Masters, had learned to read each one of Hermione's glances in order to decrease the amount of times they ended up in the Hospital Wing, and under Madame Pomphrey.

'Mione?' said Harry softly.

'It's one problem if it is Aunt Molly that is going through a difficult time in her life,' said Hermione, 'but it is another if Ginny is also in the need of being watched.'

'Mione, there is only so much we can do for Ginny,' said Ron. 'We have done all we can. We keep an eye on her, offering her help when it is possible. What more can we do?'

And that glint was in her eyes.

'We should have done more before,' said Hermione. 'We should have stopped-'

'Mione!' cut in Harry. 'You can't start beating yourself up about that. It was all of our fault's.'

That spark flickered once, before it was gone again. That cool mask of Hermione's was back on. Nothing showed. No emotion. Nothing.

Hermione was dangerous again.

'She nearly died because of our foolishness,' Hermione hissed.

'Mione!' said Harry.

It wasn't as if they could argue about that. The entire group knew that they had failed, even worse than during their first year at Hogwarts, but they had thought that it had been talked through. None of them felt any better about the entire incident, but at least there had been some kind of closure. Not a very good one, but part of the anger they felt at their failure had been squelched.

Yet they would never recover from it. Not emotionally.

'She needs help,' said Hermione. 'We can't let her suffer alone.'

'And exactly how are we supposed to give her that?' said Harry in a soft voice. 'We can not suddenly appear in her room, offering her comfort. She won't willingly let anyone see her, not even her own family.'

'We can at least attempt it in the best way we can,' said Hermione, crossing her arms across her chest.

'And how is that?' said Ron.

He slightly flinched at the tone he had allowed to enter his voice. He hadn't meant to. Hermione wasn't going to be impressed, and he would pay for it later on. Just not now, as Hermione believed that there was something else important to be taken care of first.

'How we always have before,' said Hermione, turning back. 'Now eat as much as we can, we will hide the rest before we return to The Burrow.'

'If one of the-' said Harry.

'Not if we add that new charm,' said Hermione. 'We will have to be quick, and think on our toes. We don't have much time.'

'Mione,' said Ron.

This was going to blow up in their face, Ron just knew that. Trying to help Ginny was always a tricky business. She was nearly as difficult as Hermione.

Why couldn't they have one day when they weren't trying to figure a way around one of the Masters' orders?

'Stop wasting your time trying to argue,' said Hermione, 'and more on the plan of how we will help Ginny.'


	6. Chapter 6

Charlie threw the apple into the air watching as it arced above his head again before he caught it again.

It was one of the few things that Charlie had been able to grab before they had been startled out of The Burrow by the sudden appearance of his mum. They certainly hadn't expected mum to even be back so soon, as the way she had been trying to avoid questions, it would have been though that it would take longer than one night to bring Ron, Harry and Hermione back to The Burrow.

But over two hours ago, mum had stormed through the door, a strange look in her eye and demanding that all of them do chores that involved them to be outside. The tone in her voice had made them simply agree, bolting for the back door, except…

'Why can't we play Quidditch again?' said Fred.

He looked up from the blade of grass he had been rubbing between his fingers, scratching his back against the bark of the tree. It seemed that the after-effects of the potion he and his twin had been attempting to make, stepping up their efforts upon mum disappearing to fetch Ron, Harry and Hermione, had managed to explode again. After their last attempt, it would have been thought that the twins would have decided to cut their losses, but the twins always were different in their thinking.

Charlie could only hope that, soon enough, Fred and George would give up. Mostly for their own health of course.

George gave a slight snort as his eyes watched Fred make another attempt to rub the blade of grass between his fingers.

Apparently, or at least according to one of the twin's friends in Hogwarts, if a piece of grass was wedged between two moving fingers, it would squeak. And Fred, probably to combat the aura of tension brewing from his body, seemed to have taken it upon himself to prove that it could work. So, for the past hour, Fred had diligently gone through the patch of glass surrounding him.

As of yet, Fred hadn't even been able to make the grass even the slightest of noises, though George was still cheering him from his side. And it seemed to encourage him, as Fred didn't seem to want to give in. Instead, each time the grass was shredded to nothing due to the force of his fingers, Fred simply picked up another blade.

Unfortunately, it wasn't so enthralling for Bill and Charlie, leading for the two of them to try other methods. Conversation seemed to be doing quite well, or at least in Charlie's opinion.

Since he was nearly exclusively speaking to Charlie, as the twins seemed more interested in the theory of blades of grass, Bill kept away from any topics that could end up in an argument. As Charlie didn't give him a chance to steer the conversation on exactly why the twins and Bill were annoyed, Bill seemed to calm down, slightly.

Well, his body was slightly more relaxed than what it had been when the four had settled down in their special clearing.

Or, Bill had been until Fred had brought up the subject of Quidditch again.

'Not exactly sure,' spoke up Bill, as his hand ever so slightly clenched, 'as myself and Charlie haven't done anything yet to cause mum to scream.'

Bill wasn't even looking at the twins, but Charlie knew exactly who the quip was directed at.

Contrary to what the four had instinctively felt, escape from the kitchen as soon as possible, their minds didn't always seem to follow. The twins, especially, knew better than to mention anything to do with the kitchen, yet…

Yet, they just had to mention about the subject of its smell.

Maybe the twins were simply trying to improve mum's mood with their usual kind of humour, but surely their alarm bells should have ringing loud and clear. Mum didn't want to joke, or even pretend to lose her temper and chase the twins around. She just wanted them out!

And of all things for the twins to speak about!

Sometimes Charlie wondered about the twins. He knew they were smart, they were clever enough to invent all kinds of inventions, yes pranks in Charlie's mind counted as inventions. And they did carefully choose when they were to prank someone. It wasn't always only to cheer themselves and everyone else.

And they were especially careful to make sure that the person who was pranked would not be devastated, especially if it was on someone they cared for.

Any arguments, any word matches, the twins were always carefully keeping account of their words. Never allowing themselves to go over the edge, to actually hurt the person beyond reconciliation.

But then, all of a sudden, the twins would do something stupid, such as mention the fact that their mum should at least be grateful that the kitchen no longer smelled.

And since the twins had been the ones who had been protesting that they had nothing to do with the horrible smell in the first place, even going as far as to argue mum into giving them extra chores and punishments, it would have been thought that they wouldn't dare bring it up. That had been half the problem. That the twins had refused to admit that they were the ones responsible for mum being forced to use countless cleaning and air-freshening charms to make the room bearable enough for her to cook it in. They had given up trying to eat in it.

Maybe if Fred and George had given in, taken their punishments and then removed whatever was responsible for the smell, then they wouldn't be kicked out for even longer from the house. Then they could have asked Bill and/or Charlie, therefore keeping mum from ever finding out exactly what was the cause of the smell and saved themselves the arguments and loss of tempers.

But the two had kept on insisting that they had nothing to do with it.

'Neither did we,' muttered Fred, dropping another shredded piece of grass onto the ground.

Charlie knew that he had caught Fred's eye when Fred grabbed another blade, and that the meaning of Charlie's expression got through loud and clear to Fred. He knew that Charlie was telling him to drop it.

'We just ended up getting blamed,' said George, 'again.'

Charlie could feel his eyes narrow slightly upon hearing those words.

It had been years since such anger and resentment had ever entered either of the twins' voices, even when it involved Snape. They rarely allowed anyone, or events, get them down, and the last time either of them had even been close to that kind of mood, was when Ginny had been kidnapped during her first year.

But that kind of anger had been more directed at themselves though, not at anyone else. And that was simply because they felt they had allowed such a situation to happen.

This time, it was all dumped onto the single word, 'again'.

Maybe the twins were finally realising how much trouble they were causing by refusing to admit their mistakes.

'Then who was responsible for the horrible smell?' said Bill.

Charlie nearly glared at Bill.

He knew that Bill had heard the strange tone in the twins' tone, especially in Fred's. Charlie knew that the tone had had an impact in Bill. He knew that Bill had noticed the significance.

Yet, Bill decided to keep on pushing.

What in Merlin's name was Bill thinking? He was only going to make it worse.

And that was not what they needed right now. They had plenty to worry, least of all the fact that all of them had been booted out of the house before Fred could force Ginny to leave her bedroom. Ginny was still up there, alone, and there was nothing any of them could do about it.

The twins had managed to get all four of them banned from The Burrow until supper was ready.

'We don't know,' said Fred.

He had given up trying to get a noise out of the blade of grass and was now expertly tearing it apart. His other hand was already pulling up more for him to destroy.

A sure sign that the anger Fred had been trying to keep from being noticed, had overthrown all common sense.

If Bill continued this conversation, then there would be a full-out argument. And Charlie would be the only one who could defuse it. And the one who would have to suffer the consequences, as it would be him who would have to be around them while their anger slowly moved back to a simmer.

Percy wasn't due back to The Burrow until later.

'We just got yelled at,' said George, 'once again. And since everyone refuses to listen to us, this time our brooms were taken away.'

And it hadn't only been the twin's. Bill and Charlie's had been locked up as well.

Mum hadn't even properly explained why she felt that Bill and Charlie should be punished as well, and why it had to be their brooms.

'Along with ours,' said Bill.

And Fred and George, who had been careful ever since they had been kicked out of The Burrow to make sure that they didn't meet Bill or Charlie's eyes, the most they had done was exchange glances with each other, glared at Bill with a fierceness in their eyes that Charlie hadn't seen for a long time. Not since they had by mistake bumped into Lucius Malfoy in Diagon Alley when they were thirteen, and had consequently gotten into such a bad argument with Malfoy Senior, that Tom, from The Leaky Cauldron, had been forced to interfere.

Charlie had heard though, that they had been many more instances when the twins were at Hogwarts between themselves and any of the Slytherins.

But neither of them had ever used it against one of their own family.

'We didn't mean for your brooms to be taken,' snapped Fred.

It was then that Charlie held his hand up and tried to shift his body so that he was completely between the twins and Bill. He had made sure already, to be a physical barrier between Fred, George and Bill when they had first sat in the clearing. But it obviously wasn't enough.

'We can play Quidditch another time,' said Charlie, as he received unimpressed stares in returns.

George had even gone as far as to cross his arms across his chest.

Inwardly, Charlie fought against the urge to sigh. Only a few days before, there had almost been a cheerful mood hanging over all of them, even though they were all slightly worried about the fact that Ron, Harry and Hermione had yet to arrive at The Burrow. But, even then, by mum's mood, they had guessed that the three would be arriving soon enough.

During the month after the rest of them had returned from Hogwarts, mum had been swinging back and forth from anxiousness to cheerful humming. There didn't seem to be any method to it, until they had realised that after the third week had passed, mum was showing more of this pleased nature than fretting. And then upon watching her even closer, mum was practically in a frenzy in cleaning up the house and bringing in extra food and so forth.

And then she had suddenly announced two days ago that Ron, Harry and Hermione were finally returning to The Burrow.

'So what do we do until then?' muttered Fred.

Charlie shot him a look.

Fred's tone was enough to start up another one, and Charlie had just managed to diffuse the last one between the twins and Bill.

Yet Fred didn't seem to notice, as he simply exchanged a look with George. Both of their faces seemed to have gone placid. Nothing showed. It was only their tones, or Fred's, that was showing any sign of exactly what mood they were in.

Silence as Fred and George turned their gazes back to the ground.

They wouldn't go any further now. They had said their piece and that was that.

It was all up to Bill.

Who's mouth was flickering.

'Well,' said Bill softly, 'then since we are here…'

And just like that, Bill had shut off all of the anger he felt over the predicament. He had said all that he needed to say, and the matter was resolved.

For now.

And completely typical of Bill.

And that left Charlie to have to quickly back peddle and figure out exactly where this conversation was going. If he didn't, then it could too easily lead to another argument.

'Since we are here?' said Fred, raising his head to glance at Bill, 'what?'

Fred's voice was careful. He wasn't letting anything show. Even his tone was controlled now.

Obviously, to Fred, he still wasn't sure if Bill was going to let the argument lie.

And for the twins, they were just proving that they, as always, couldn't forgive instantly. They could calm themselves down to have conversations and not on purpose start up another argument, but they wouldn't be able to keep their tone measured.

It would take a few more hours before their tempers would dwindle enough to return to their usual jovial behaviour.

Bill, on the other hand, was keeping true to his nature.

There was even a twinkle back in Bill's eyes.

'Simply mentioning that we are in a perfect time to return to a "good old-fashioned game",' said Bill.

Surely not?

Charlie could feel himself snort.

Surely Bill couldn't be stupid enough to bring that up. The last time any of them had even attempted to start the game, mum had interfered. None of them was exactly sure how mum had known, as they were supposed to be in an enclosure that could only be entered one way. And they knew for certain that no one outside of their group even knew about the game.

Yet, somehow mum had known and upon storming into the enclosure, she had banished them back into The Burrow and told them to keep to their rooms.

Mum did not take kindly to them playing the 'good old-fashioned game'.

No,' said Charlie, feeling the three stare at him, 'we are not. I am not having mum storm over here to give out to us over it again.'

And Charlie could almost swear that Bill's face had lightened.

'But she is otherwise pre-occupied,' said Bill.

Charlie's mouth gave it's own twitch.

Internally, in the back of his mind, Charlie knew that he was going to lose this argument. Even with Fred and George not being in the best of moods, the simple fact that Bill was giving them a way out of the argument would be enough for them to push for the 'good old-fashioned game' to be played.

It was just a matter of time before Fred and George came around to the idea.

'She'll be able to sense when we start,' said Charlie. 'She always knows when we are up to something.'

And just like Charlie feared, he could see out of the corner of his eyes, that Fred and George were already fighting internally. They wanted to still be angry, but the possibility of calming the waters, at least for a little while longer was extremely appeasing.

'Mum will still be in The Burrow,' said Bill.

'Not for much longer,' said Charlie.

'She will have Ron, Harry and Hermione with her,' said Bill.

'They won't keep her attention,' said Charlie. 'She's been home for over two hours.'

'And spent all of it fussing over the three,' said Bill. 'Every time they come to The Burrow she goes into overdrive.'

'That's not going to make her forget about us,' said Charlie.

It seemed as though Charlie had finally made Bill pause.

But only for a second.

'Even if she does remember about us,' said Bill, 'she still has to find us.'

Charlie's mouth twitched again.

Well, Bill did have a point there.

They were located in one of the Spots that mum, dad, Ron and Ginny didn't know about. Most of the time when they played that 'good old-fashioned game' they were running around in the enclosure that their parents knew they frequented. This time they weren't.

Charlie gave a soft sigh.

Damn. Bill had him there.

But that didn't mean that Charlie was going to give in easily.

'Hardly be a game if it barely lasts an hour,' said Charlie.

And as expected, Fred and George were every now and then shooting glances at Charlie and Bill, keeping an eye on how Bill's argument was going.

'We've had ones that lasted even less than that,' said Bill, 'and they still have been ones that will go down into our stories.'

Bill flashed Charlie a grin.

'Ended spectacularly,' he added.

Charlie did not need to be reminded that usually what became one of those kind of stories were ones when something went wrong. When the biggest of flukes managed to somehow make the impossible, happen.

'You mean you falling out of the tree?' said Charlie.

As one, Fred and George rolled their eyes.

Bill simply smirked.

Bill had no reason to be so confident, as it was only because Charlie knew how to heal, a must have when having any dealings with dragons, that they hadn't been forced to ask mum to heal the various bruises, twists and Bill's broken ankle. And that would have only ended in mum immediately knowing that the group were playing the game she had banned them from doing…

'Lost my balance,' said Bill. 'It happens.'

He shrugged.

'The all agile William can't keep up a tree,' muttered Fred.

There was that trace of humour. Still ever so slight, but it was there.

There was a chance that the argument would be put on hold. For now.

'I at least didn't put my foot into the mud pit,' said Bill.

The next glance between Fred and George was slight, but obviously an agreement had been made.

'Due to someone helping,' said George.

'You can't blame Percy for all of this,' said Bill.

'Can when someone helped him rig up the trip wire,' said Fred.

'Can't help it if I just happen to carry quite a bit of wire on me,' said Bill.

'Which seems to be used more often helping us,' said George, 'than the reason you got it for the job.'

'It's surprising what can be used in both,' said Bill.

A nod from the twins.

And then the conversation seemed to die. Even the prospect of the 'good old-fashioned game' didn't seem enough to help the twins keep the conversation going.

Charlie had to intervene, or else…

'Percy wants us to wait until he gets home before we do another one,' said Charlie.

'Another one?' said George.

'I thought he said we had to hold off until Ron, Harry and Hermione are back?' said Fred.

Maybe it hadn't been the best topic to bring up, but-

'But they are,' said Charlie. 'They've been here for over two hours.'

'But not comfortably back,' said Fred.

'Mum will want to keep them near her,' said George, 'especially as they were kept longer in Hogwarts than the rest of us.'

'For whatever it was they did this year,' said Fred.

Their faces turned grave.

'I heard their entire stay was in the Hospital Wing,' said George softly.

Charlie and Bill stared at him.

'When did you hear that?' said Bill, the twinkle gone from his eyes. 'Nothing was said about the Hospital Wing when mum and dad talked to McGonegall.'

Fred and George shook their heads.

'It wasn't,' said George.

'A letter arrived for mum after she left to pick up Ron, Harry and Hermione,' said Fred.

'Then how did you see it?' said Bill. 'You can't convince an owl to give up a letter to anyone other than the recipient.'

'Obviously the letter wasn't supposed to be that important,' said George, 'as it gave it to us easily enough.'

'And that mentioned the Hospital Wing?' said Charlie.

If it truly did have anything to do with Ron, Harry and Hermione, then the owl shouldn't have given the letter to the twins. Mum and dad had always been secretive about the three. Even when something happened that directly involved the Weasley family, nothing was being said to them.

Such as in the school year of 1992, when Ginny had nearly been killed.

Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George knew that Harry, Ron and Hermione had been directly involved in managing to save Ginny. Hermione might have been in the Hospital Wing, petrified, but she would still have had a direct hand in the mystery up to that point. And it had been Ron and Harry who had appeared at Dumbledore's Office, torn clothes and scratches with Ginny in their arms.

But nothing had been said. Mum and dad had refused to speak about it, and Ron had avoided them. Any time they had tried to bring it up, to find what really had happened, Ron would cut the conversation short and walk away.

They couldn't get anything out of anyone.

And this year, something big had happened. What exactly, none of them knew.

All they knew was that with three weeks to go before the school year ended, Ron, Harry and Hermione had disappeared. They left quietly in the night. One day they were there, the next day, the professors were trying to covertly ask everyone if they had seen the three.

But it didn't seem that anyone had.

And during that time, no one would tell them what was going on. The professors seemed to try and keep out of the way of Fred, George and Ginny.

But the twins and Lee had known that something was up, and as soon as they could, had sent an owl to Percy, Bill, Charlie and Oliver.

And then just like how Fred, George and Lee had reported Ron, Harry and Hermione had disappeared, one day an owl had arrived from them to say that the three were back. Lee had been in the Hospital Wing, due to another bad reaction to a sweet he was testing for the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and he was the one who noticed that in the far beds…

In the far beds, every single bed had been curtained off. There was only one bed with curtains ever so slightly open, containing Ron. Or what Lee could see of Ron. The only part that could be seen was his head, but bandages covered most of it.

And later, when Lee was trying to sleep, he had heard McGonegall and Flitwick pass by his bed. Flicking his eyes open, he watched as the two professors approached the far beds and pulled three of the curtains back.

Ron, Harry and Hermione were there.

What followed had been a hurried and furtive whispered conversation. Lee had been too far to hear any of it, but from what he could tell, Ron, Harry and Hermione were not happy with the professors. Furious was the better word.

And the professors didn't seem to be that happy with the three either.

Lee had been discharged from the Hospital Wing the next day. He hadn't even been given a chance to pretend to need something from the far side of the Hospital Wing; Madame Pomphrey had made sure that he was escorted out.

'Much of it was on information we already knew,' said Fred.

'You mean bits about the War that we told you?' said Bill.

Though told was hardly the words Charlie would use.

Charlie and Bill knew that they wouldn't be able to keep the War from the twins and Lee. Fred, George and Lee had graduated this year, giving mum no more excuses as for why they couldn't help. They were eighteen.

And since they were close, that meant that Bill and Charlie couldn't keep any information from them. The two tried to monitor exactly what they said to the twins and Lee, but there was only so much they could.

Percy was another matter.

He was a spy for the Light in The Ministry, though they all knew that there were others for the Order of the Phoenix.

'But there was mention of the professors having difficultly with the Hospital Wing,' said Fred.

'As in there were ones in there that were giving them trouble,' said George.

'And you think that they were speaking about Ron, Harry and Hermione?' said Bill softly.

Fred and George nodded.

'They always manage to get themselves hurt when they go on their yearly adventures,' said George.

'And this year was probably no different,' said Fred.

Charlie swallowed.

'Do you think we would be able to confirm it?' said Bill.

'Not unless we get something from Ron, Harry and Hermione,' said George.

'Looks like only you and Charlie might be able to,' said Fred.

'Why do you think we would be able to?' said Bill. 'The other Order Members only tell us if it has something directly to do with The Order.'

'And when do their yearly adventures not have something to do with concerns of The Order?' said Fred.

'They still go on a need to know basis,' said Bill.

'Do you think the rest of The Order might know?' said George.

Charlie shook his head.

'Rarely see them,' said Bill. 'We still don't have a definite place to meet yet, so it's only when we can all sneak into Hogwarts.'

'And the last time we did,' said Charlie, 'it was only to see Dumbledore.'

The slightest flicker of interest in the twin's eyes.

'Don't remember being told about that,' said Fred carefully.

Blast.

And there had been a reason for that as well. They hadn't been so sure how the twins and Lee would take the latest news. It wasn't as if it was good news, and with none of The Order being sure in the first place exactly why it had occurred, or how the Death Eaters had managed to get away with it, it simply made them shake their heads in wonder.

How could none of The Ministry remember?

'Percy was giving his report on the latest on The Ministry,' said Bill.

Just as it had been in Fred's voice, Bill's tone was even and measured.

They were on shaky ground.

No one was supposed to know about the entire fiasco with Azkaban, not unless they were actual members of The Order. Fred, George and Lee were not members, not just yet.

Though, once they were, it wasn't as if there was going to be much good news to give them.

'And you were there because?' said George.

'Because it was one of the few times we could see him,' said Bill.

It was only the slightest of movements, the barest twitch, but it caught Charlie's eyes. Fred and George were speaking to each other, discussing where they were going to aim this conversation.

Bill, Charlie, Oliver and Percy had always known that Fred and George could communicate without words. It wasn't telepathy, unless this was another secret the two were keeping from them. Not from Lee though, Charlie believed that Fred and George told Lee quite a few of theirs.

'And?' said George.

Charlie could feel Bill shift slightly. The only sign of their uneasiness.

Unbidden, Charlie could remember the last time he and Bill, Oliver and Percy had been cornered by the professors. And he could clearly hear them telling him that he wasn't to tell his younger siblings anything.

But they had broken it before.

'And we managed to spend more time with him than usual,' said Bill.

'And?' said Fred.

There was a definite tone of anger now in Fred's voice.

'And we told Dumbledore our news,' said Bill, sighing.

Fred didn't look as though he was convinced.

'Concerning Azkaban,' said Charlie.

Azkaban, for all it's impenetrable walls, excelled success rate of the few prisoners that did escape were usually killed, Sirius Black was the only one who had broken that, had proved that it was possible for a massive break-out. It was brimming for everyone's worst nightmare to happen.

Someone made a deal with the Dementers. And unfortunately, it was You-Know-Who.

'Azkaban?' said Fred.

'But if anything happened there-,' said George.

'Something has happened,' said Bill, 'but The Ministry don't seem to know anything about it.'

'They are pretending nothing happened?' said Fred.

Bill gave a shake of his head.

I would be easier if The Ministry were just covering it up, as usual. But not this time. This time…

'No,' he said. 'They don't know that there has been a breakout.'

Charlie watched as almost on instinct, Fred and George moved closer to each other. They always did when they were given startling news, and just like they used to do in the past, they depended on the other for comfort.

'But how could they fail to notice a breakout?' said Fred.

'They noticed when Sirius Black escaped,' said George.

And Bill, who had been managing to keep a calm exterior as he led the conversation, suddenly showed his own uneasiness, glanced over at Charlie. A question in Bill's eyes.

Charlie nodded.

'Someone has interfered with their minds,' said Charlie, watching as Fred and George's eyes widened.

'You mean You-Know-Who?' said George.

Charlie forced himself to nod.

'And none of The Order know how they managed it?' said Fred.

Not that they hadn't tried.

Charlie and the other three had been pulled in countless times into Hogwarts for impromptu meetings ever since the news had first gotten out. Yet no matter how many times a few members of The Order were gathered together, as none of them had the time for everyone to be there, no one could figure out how the Death Eaters had managed. Or where the Death Eaters, that had escaped, had disappeared.

'No,' said Bill, 'we've only got theories.'

Wild, impossible ones thrown into the mix. But that was all they had. Strange, ideas of how the Death Eaters had pulled it off.

'Theories?' said Fred.

'Stupid, idiotic ones,' said Charlie softly.

He could feel the twins' gaze turn on him, searching for answers. But Charlie didn't have any.

Not this time.

No one did.

'Who escaped?' said George.

The two had moved even closer to each other, shoulders touching.

And it wasn't going to get any better.

'Lestranges,' said Bill. 'McNairs. Blacks. Malfoys.'

'Malfoy?' spoke up Fred.

Charlie's eyebrows had rose at that new piece of information when he had first found out as well. Bill, when it had finally sunk in and some humour had managed to trickle out, had compared Charlie to a constipated rat.

Charlie had felt great satisfaction when he had thumped Bill.

But that didn't change the fact that there was too much about the previous War that they didn't know about it. Libraries and the few times when one of the older members of The Order would be open enough to speak about what they had gone through didn't give them much, and the last time one of them had asked an old professor, they had faced an angry glare. McGonegall had also gone as far as to tell them to not bother any of the old members of The Order, or else.

Yet eventually, Bill, Charlie, Oli and Percy had managed to get Kingsley to speak about the past. The four of them had unexpectedly been at Hogwarts at the same time, and had passed Kingsley in the halls. The Auror must have heard how they were trying to learn about the first war against You-Know-Who, and had offered to meet them after their talk with Dumbledore and McGonegall.

When they met up two hours later, Kingsley told them the tale. How, unknown to most of the public, Lucius Malfoy had had a younger brother, Brennan Malfoy. Four years before that Halloween night in 1981, Brennan Malfoy had been caught, with a large group, setting fire to the clearing where a group of Muggles were camping, and attempting to murder said Muggles. Brennan Malfoy had been tried, convicted and sent to Azkaban for his part.

Lucius Malfoy managed to escape through the entire war without being branded a true Death Eater. Part of it, Kingsley had explained was that Lucius Malfoy had clamped down on any mention of his younger brother, and as time had passed, everyone had forgotten.

Well, not everyone.

McGonegall, Kingsley and Moody had not been pleased when they had discovered that Brennan Malfoy had escaped.

'Seems Lucius Malfoy has a younger brother,' said Bill, a hint of maliciousness in his voice, 'who was convicted of being a Death Eater. Supposed to be serving a life sentence.'

And there was a reason for that.

Bill and Charlie could still remember the last War, better than even Percy and Oliver could. They could recall the hopelessness and the loss of self in everyone's eyes. They could remember their mum crying softly in the night, trying not to wake her children up, though all of them were huddled up together in the room Bill and Charlie shared.

And they remembered the accusations thrown around, and the ones, who somehow escaped being thrown into Azkaban who traded dark insults with their parents.

'Who discovered it?' said Fred softly.

'Discovered?' said Bill.

'That there had been a break-out,' said Fred.

'McGonegall and Dumbledore,' said Charlie.

Though Merlin knew how they had discovered it, considering how careful the Death Eaters had been to make sure that the Azkaban guards thought that nothing had happened, other than some near escapes and deadly diseases.

'They have connections within the Azkaban?' said George.

Charlie shrugged.

'Must do,' he said.

The four almost failed to notice the slight snort from the undergrowth.


End file.
